Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Copyright by me, ask for permission to repost.  If you can't go see a NC17
movie, get outta here.  Blowjob principle applies.  Thanks to Desdmona!!!
for her grand editing work...And Nick Scipio and Gary for ummm clearing up
my "maleness" *************************************************************
Escape By Dryad (MF,Oral,cheat)

   I rapped my knuckles on the screen door as I held the box with my other
hand.  Another quick job; replace a CDRW drive, get in and get out.  I
sighed as I looked at my watch.  I waited a few moments, then saw her peek
through the glass.

   First I was struck by how her girl-next-door features fit the voice I
heard when I called to set up the appointment.  As she opened the door for
me, the second thing I noticed was a bit more unprofessional of me: her
nipples pressed out against her soft sweater.

   "Come on in," she said as I shook myself out of my reverie.  "Ignore the
mess, I haven't had a chance to clean."

   She led me through the kitchen.  A few breakfast dishes sat in the sink.
On the table, an open tin of crayons sat beside a small stack of coloring
books.  This was nothing compared to some kitchens I'd been forced to walk
through.  "Whose kitchen DOESN'T look like this?"

   She shrugged and kept walking.  I followed.  She was truly small--barely
five feet.  At six-foot-four, I tower over the average woman.  She would
barely reach my chest.

   We passed through an equally lived-in but well kept living room to her
office.  She looked embarrassed as she led me in.  "I'm sorry it's such a
disaster.  It's supposed to be my office, but all sorts of stuff ends up
getting tossed in here."

   I could see her point--broken toys, a Barbie house, and linens all
jockeyed for space with the books and computer equipment in the small room.
This was obviously her workspace, so why did everyone throw all their crap
in here?  Didn't they care?

   I sat down at the computer and began work--reset the screen, checked
drivers and such.  Verified the specs on the RAM, virus protections and the
CD-RW driver.  Her computer's system wasn't going to support the new CDRW
that was sent so it was a good thing I brought the new program.  After
optimizing, it was time to open up the housing.

   I'm used to having clients hang around and watch what I'm doing.  After
all, it is their system, their house.  Doesn't bother me.  She stayed close
though, closer than most carrying on inane chatter;

   "Have you been doing this long?" She moved things about on her desk
without any sort of rhyme or reason, her arm occasionally bumping into
mine.

   "A while; about five years." I watched her from the corner of my eye as
I worked.  She flitted about like a bird, staying at my elbow, shuffling
papers, then reshuffling them.

   "Are you nervous?" I finally asked.

   "Not at all!" she answered shrilly.

   "No need to be," I said as I opened up the tower.  I turned to explain
what I was going to do.  She leaned over my shoulder for a closer look. 
Her breast brushed against me, and her nipple, hard as a pebble, pressed
into my shoulder.  It took a moment for me to refocus on what I was
supposed to be doing.  My fingers fumbled.

   She pointed to the small flashlight I was using.  "I could hold that for
you if it would help." I didn't really need it, often doing this by sense
of touch, but with her body so close to mine, my hands were unsteady.  So I
agreed.

   She moved behind me and scrunched up close in the tight confines of the
room.  Her chest grazed my back.  She moved like a feline--soft and
sleek--but something was holding her back.

   "Just a bit more this way." I placed my hand over hers, redirecting the
light.  I was amazed at the difference; my large, thick fingers over her
delicate, pale hand.  Her fingers were cold, belying her earlier contention
of not being nervous.

   "What do you use the computer for?" I asked, trying to get back on
track.

   "I design web sites.  Work for a couple different companies." She
shifted, bringing her body close to mine again.  "I like the flexibility of
working from home.  If one of the children is sick, I don't have to worry.
If I want to go out for lunch, no big deal." She was animated yet more
relaxed than before.

   "Well, it's a lovely home you have." Not bad for working from home.

   "My husband's and mine." Her entire demeanor became subdued.  The energy
she had just seemed to disappear.

   "You're married?" I was surprised.

   "Yeah."

   "What does your husband do?" I straightened up, having gotten the drive
out.

   "He's a bus driver." Her tone was abrupt.

   "Kinda opposite ends of the spectrum there, huh?" She nodded, focusing
on my hands.  I pulled the new drive out of its packaging.

   "That's it?  That's great!  They told me they wouldn't be able to
upgrade!" she rubbed her hands together, suddenly excited once more.  I
wonder if she realized how quickly she changed the subject, or for that
matter, her mood in general.

   "Well, your old drive was actually obsolete.  Can't even find it
anymore. So now you have this one.  It's why your old driver won't work."

   She grew silent as I worked the drive into the casing.  She leaned
closer into me, and I have to admit, she was making me feel hot under the
collar.  I knew she could hear my quickened breath, but damned if I could
stop it or quiet it.  I focused myself on getting the disk drive into the
housing.  It was a tight fit.

   Of course, that set my brain in a whole other direction; at five feet
tall, she would fit so snugly against my body, and my body shifted at the
thought.  I finally forced the stupid drive in, and I pinched my finger.

   "Shit!" A really good blood blister began to bubble up.  I made a tight
fist until the sting diminished a little, and turned back to my work.  With
the drive in, I was able to close the tower back up and install the driver.


   While it was loading, I asked her where the facilities were.

   "Right around the corner," she said, nodding towards the hallway.

   I took care of business in the small room then washed my hands in the
sink surrounded by children's toothbrushes and Blue's Clues soap.

   As I came back from the bathroom, I noticed it.  A hole in the wall. 
Directly across from the office door, a large hole, as if someone had been
leaning against the wall to break down the office door, and instead broke
through the sheetrock.  You could almost see the indent of a shoulder. 
Don't know how I missed it before.  She'd apologized for just about
everything else in the house, she must've forgotten the hole was there. 
How could you forget something like that?  It reeked of anger.  I shook my
head.  She didn't belong; but then again, no woman belonged in a place that
bespoke of violence.

   I went back into the office.  Her back was to me, fiddling with books on
the bookshelf, straightening papers on her desk.  I watched for a moment,
then cleared my throat.  She jumped at the sound before turning around.

   "You're blushing." I could smell her scent, could see her fighting some
need

   Her hand flew to her face, cupping her cheek.  "Really?  I haven't
blushed in ages."

   "Mmmhmm.  Right down your chest." I looked at the dip in her V-neck
sweater.  Her eyes followed my gaze.  A crimson flush blazed across her
pale flesh.  She surprised me by lowering her hand and stroking her flushed
skin.

   "Would you like to see how far down it goes?" She said it so quietly, I
almost missed it.

   Her head was down, not looking at me, as if she were a good little
catholic girl about to give her first real confession.  My God, she was
shaking!  I cursed the fool who made her feel ashamed of her body, ashamed
of her desire.

   "Whatever you want to do is fine with me." I struggled with wanting to
touch her, comfort her, but it wouldn't be me choosing how this thing
continued.  This was her battle, her demon.  Slowly, she lifted the hem of
her sweater, pulling it up over her breasts.  My breath caught.

   She was beautiful.

   Her skin something a Renaissance artist would have painted.  She looked
up at me, saw the look on my face, my hands clenched at my sides.

   "It's okay if you want to touch them." My fingers itched for just such a
thing.  The round curves leading up to her crinkled, apricot nipples. 
Slowly, as though reaching for a skittish colt, my fingers brushed up the
outside curve of her breast.  My fingers circled their heft, kneading them
gently, then more firmly.  Her body shivered and swayed against me.  My
thumbs flickered lightly over her nipples.  She moaned softly at first,
then with more fervor.

   Her tone shifted, and I knew she was about to ask for more.  My hands
moved over her warm, malleable breasts as my brain raced ahead to what I
should--what I _would_ do--if she asked.  She deserved better than what I'd
seen, certainly, but I also knew this wasn't about me.  Her hand left my
chest and I could hear the soft sound of a zipper being undone.  Suddenly,
she stepped away from me and left her skirt in a puddle on the floor at her
feet.  She stood there for a moment in all her nude glory.  I didn't know
what to do.

   She took the decision out of my hands when she suddenly knelt before me.
Her fingers raked my pants down my legs, raising a sigh from me.  My dick
popped out and her eyes grew wide.  Her fingers touched me as she looked
up. It jumped at her touch, and I was no longer able to deny her anything.
She placed her warm lips against my head and sucked it into her mouth.  My
legs shivered, and I pulled the computer chair over to me.  I collapsed in
it, and she never lost connection.

   She was amazing and enthusiastic, that much was certain.  She could take
my entire length in her mouth and throat, a feat all in itself.  But she
also managed to know exactly when I was about to come and pulled back just
enough to keep me on the edge.  It was about the third time she did this
when my brain kicked back in, and I realized that this was all wrong.  Not
necessarily the sex, that was her choice, but that here I was taking and
not giving.  From what I'd seen, that in itself was a gross error.

   Slowly, I pulled her off my aching cock and turned her around.  She
looked concerned until I began to stroke her steaming pussy.  God, she was
so hot and wet.  Her knees buckled, and I caught her.

   "Lean back." I hushed.

   She fell back against my chest, her head nestled into the crook of my
neck.  My hands continued to investigate all her secrets, finding first her
moist depths, rubbing quickly against her clitoris.  Her body arched and
climbed up higher on my body.  Her moans became squeals, and then squeals
became whines.  One hand wandered back up to her soft breasts.  I picked up
speed over her clitoris, and whines turned into shrieks.  Tension eased
from her body as she lay against me, sated.

   After a few moments, she whispered, "Let me return the favor."

   "You don't need to do that," but she had already slipped between my
legs, sucking my hardness back into her gifted mouth.  She slid my
thickness deep, making me squirm and utter sounds I haven't uttered in
ages. My fingers gently stroked her hair from her face as I moaned what few
words of praise I could squeak out.  It didn't take long this time for me
to feel the impending onrush.  I grasped the chair's armrests until my
knuckles were white as my orgasm erupted into her mouth.  I was shocked as
she continued to swallow.  The head of my penis squeezed in her throat.  My
groaned "Thank Yous" mixed with my cries to God as I continued to pump into
her mouth.

   It took me a moment to regain my sense of self.  At first, I felt a bit
guilty for taking advantage of her, but her radiant smile soon put that
thought, at least temporarily, out of my head.  I sighed as I pulled myself
back together.

   I still had a bit of work to do.  Reluctantly, I checked the new
drivers, making sure everything worked well.  I called my boss to let him
know the new additions and the edited time of my arrival.  I boxed up the
old disc drive while she signed my paperwork.  She led me to the door.

   I stood at the door, looking at her dispirited beauty.  Having to leave
but not wanting to.  "If he's not careful, he's going to lose you."

   She nodded.

   I looked for a moment longer, then stepped out the door.
   Copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2003