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From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
Subject: {ASSM} {GALAGO} "Riding the Tiger" (Kellis) (MF Oral)
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Riding the Tiger
a Short Story by Kellis, Copyright (C) 1999
"Is your meeting over?"
The soft contralto voice came from behind him. He turned
in surprise, having seen no one a moment before when he emerged
from the bright, stuffy room into the cool night air. To either
side the long balcony had been a dark jumble. He had gone
immediately to the rail, staring out at the masses of dark
buildings and countless bright windows of the big-city skyline.
Now facing the dim translucence of the window drapes, he spotted
her in silhouette. She was seated behind one of the
parasol-capped tables.
"No. But I have what I came for."
"What's that?"
"The schedules for tomorrow. Are you with Ingerson,
too?"
Her voice had the sound of a grin. "Do you have to ask?"
"I ... don't recognize you."
She leaned back. "Your eyes haven't adjusted yet. Come
and sit with me."
"Thank you. I will." He paused beside her table.
"Could I get you a drink?"
"No, thanks, unless *you* are thirsty."
He dropped into the chair quartering on her left. The
parasol shaded her from the moonlight, but at this range he had
an impression of large, glowing eyes and regular features. Hair
down to her shoulders was better lit by the dim spillage through
the drapes. Her shoulders glimmered in the same light, and ...
He stared in fascination at what appeared to be nipples, darker
spots on the poorly lit torso.
She actually chuckled. "*Now* do you think I'm with
Ingerson?"
"I ... I don't think I've ever seen such decorations on
a blouse."
The chuckle became a laugh. She cupped herself and
turned a spot toward him. "Are you sure you never saw one?"
He shook his head. "Excuse me. You seem ..."
Her laughter trailed off at his hesitation. "What do I
seem?"
He took a breath. "Naked. From the waist up."
The hair rippled as she tossed her head. "And below
that?"
"I can't tell without bending over."
"Go ahead."
He leaned far to the right of the metal table before
raising up.
Her eyes sparkled. "What's your conclusion?"
When he only stared at her, she laughed again, a short
burst of sound. "Are you thinking, 'This broad is nuts. I'd
better get out of here?'"
"No. Not exactly. Who are you, if you don't mind me
asking?"
"Call me Kate."
"Kate. Pleased to meet you. I'm Perry."
She studied him a moment before declaring, "Perry Cross."
He remembered his name tag and resisted the impulse to
detach it and put it in his pocket. "Ingerson's newest engineer.
What are you *doing* here, Kate?"
Her eyes glittered. "Waiting for you."
He chuckled. "That's a good one!"
She pushed back her chair and stood up. To his surprise
she was not even smiling. She said evenly, "I'll show you, if
you come with me."
She turned and walked away from the shade of the parasol,
proceeding down the long, dark balcony. He hesitated only a
moment. In the moonlight her body was slim and supple,
narrow-waisted with round feminine hips. She was even bare of
foot. Her only adornment was a metal band that pulled her hair
back from the sides of her face.
He hastened after her. Drawing parallel, he asked,
"Where are we going?"
"Does it matter?" she retorted, not breaking stride.
"Depends on who you plan to meet. Should I get naked,
too?"
"Oh, you will," she responded confidently. Her throaty
chuckle sounded. "You must be nuts, too, Perry, if you expect to
meet people naked."
He shrugged. "I'm originally from out of town."
That added to her laugh. "Well, don't take my behavior
as the standard. Here we are."
She paused before a door labeled 1671 and produced a key
that must have been clutched in hand. The door opened to
darkness. She reached in and flipped on a light, looking back at
him over her shoulder. He blinked and suddenly perceived a
stunningly handsome face, too angular to be called beautiful, but
possessed of the most luminous blue eyes he could remember ever
seeing. "Come on in, Perry."
When he was clear, she added, "Shut the door, please, and
lock it."
He complied, glancing quickly around at a reception room
typical of a hotel suite, lit by a single floor lamp set to one
side. She continued several steps and pirouetted to face him.
His moonlit impression of her was confirmed. The nipples were
small and dark on ample breasts. The pubic hair was trimmed for
a bikini, though the creamy skin exhibited no tan line. In the
brighter light her smooth shapeliness resonated in his groin.
She was taller than average. When his eyes rose to meet
hers, he found her chin lifted. "Do I pass?" she asked.
He took a breath. "You know you're lovely, Kate. You
have to know it!"
"Thank you, I think."
"But what's going on?"
She smiled slightly. "Nothing, yet. Come on."
She turned away and opened the door connecting to a dark
interior room. Again she flipped on a light. Looking over her
shoulders, he saw a bedroom in blues and greens with a king-sized
bed. Two headboard lamps were the light source.
She spun about, forcing him to halt. Her hands rose to
his necktie and expertly tugged the understrand through the loop.
She chuckled. "What's the matter, Perry?"
He shook his head. "I can't believe this."
The tie and its clasp sailed into a nearby chair. "Why
not? Don't your girlfriends ever help you undress?" Her hands
were making short work of his shirt buttons.
"You w-want me to undress?"
"Didn't you just agree to it?"
He nodded. "I guess I did." He shrugged out of suitcoat
and shirt together. They fell atop the necktie as his hands
replaced hers at his belt-buckle.
He muttered as his pants descended, "I do like to
understand what's going on. Once again, Kate, what is it?"
Gently her hand enclosed his out-thrust manhood. She
looked from it up to his face. "This part knows."
He shook his head. "Then I wish it would tell *me*!"
She grinned. "I think it will. Kick off your shoes and
come to bed."
With a single powerful heave she stripped the bed to the
bottom sheet. Her arms pulled him down with her. He smelled
soap and a faint perfume.
"Ah, you're so warm!" she exclaimed as his torso fully
contacted hers. Her hand sought purposefully between them.
He stared down into her eyes just below his. "Don't you
want ...?"
"Want what?"
"Me to do anything for you first?"
She smiled. "Your girlfriends must love you."
"I like to think so. Don't you want it?"
She arched an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"
Nose-to-nose, her eyes were even more compelling.
Suddenly her good opinion was important. He crawled backward
over her. Stretching his feet off the end of the bed, he lowered
his face to her pubes and opened the lips with the fingers of
either hand.
Her hips creaked as she separated her legs and raised
cool thighs to enclose his ears. Distantly he heard her throaty
chuckle. "I was *hoping* that's what you meant!"
Breath ruffling the hair, he asked, "No reason I
shouldn't, is there?"
"I have no sexually transmitted disease."
She quivered as his tongue dug into the fleshy folds.
She purred, "I'm glad you trust me, Perry. You won't be sorry."
She was dry at first but changed quickly under his
tongue. Rocking hips soon announced his effectiveness. He heard
inarticulate cries. He had to shift his own hips to ease a
painfully hard erection.
Suddenly she screamed and went rigid. He redoubled his
efforts but only for a moment before she shoved him away. He
found the top sheet behind him and raised it long enough to wipe
his mouth. She raised up, took his upper arms and pulled him
upon her.
"Now, Perry, now!"
Her hand guided him unerringly as her mouth sought his.
She cried out nasally at his first thrust. Her legs enwrapped
his below the knees. Their pelvic regions ground together, hers
exhibiting that classical motion which accomplishes greater
up-and-down variation than in-and-out. Both moaned with each
breath, despite tongues interlocked in the other's teeth.
His reserves had been accumulating for nearly a week.
Clearly she felt the effect of it. Twisting and bucking under
him, freeing her mouth, she cried, "Oh, god! Oh, god!" Her
fingernails stung low on his back.
Their bodies quieted together. With a sigh he rolled off
and lay beside her as both recovered breath. After a moment she
raised up on an elbow. She put a hand to herself then raised it
glistening aloft. "God, Perry, do you always make so much?"
He shrugged. "When I'm doing without."
"Oh? When does a man handsome as you do without?"
"Well!" he exclaimed. "Finally someone who agrees with
my mother!"
"Surely you have a girlfriend!"
"Even if I did, for the last week I've been helping
design a network 16 hours a day. Kate, are you ready to tell me
yet what I'm doing here?"
She chuckled deep in her throat. "I'd say you've already
done it -- and very well, too! Put your arm around me, please,
and let me snuggle."
She threw a leg over his genitals, pressed her breasts
into his side and laid her head on his shoulder. Her hand
caressed the thin hair on his chest. Her lips touched his chin.
She was warm and very soft. Her eyes glowed in the nearby
light.
"I suppose you'll crack wise and I'll never see you again
if I question you very much," he said thoughtfully. "Right?"
"At all, Perry."
"Huh? Oh."
"Let's talk about you. You said 'Ingerson's newest
engineer.' Recent graduate?"
"In June."
"You're quite a young man, aren't you! How did you learn
to please a girl so well?"
"I'm 22."
"Physically the optimum age for a male. I never knew
such a thoughtful 22 year old."
"I hope that's a compliment."
"I mean it, Perry."
"What's optimum about 22?"
Her eyes on his were thoughtful. "Obviously you don't
think so. Why not, Perry?"
"Most people think I'm still a kid. Either that or
they're all bluffing. Does the whole world operate on bluff,
Kate?"
"I don't!"
He chuckled in agreement. "I know *you* don't! But I
see it in their eyes. Every proposal I hear is about half-baked,
if that much!"
"From your coworkers?"
"Yeah. And just about everyone else."
"Then you must enjoy squashing them."
"Me? I'm low man on the ladder. I mostly keep quiet.
But I could. They don't bother to run out the math, they skip
over crucial intermediate -- But you don't care about that." He
stroked her back. "You mean, a man of 22 is optimum for a
woman."
"*Physically*, Perry."
"Damn! Then I can only get worse."
"Not any time soon. Attitude is more important than age,
and you certainly have that."
"Attitude?"
"I mean your interest in pleasing your partner, even when
she's a one-shot pickup."
"I discovered early-on that it's a two-way street.
One-shot pickup?"
"Who picked *you* up, in fact! Well, maybe not
'one-shot.'" She moved her leg enough to take him in hand.
"Kate ... Excuse me, but I have to ask it. You couldn't
have been waiting for me. You never saw me before."
She chuckled. "That's not a question."
"What if someone else had come out on the balcony? You
were *naked*!"
"It took you long enough to notice me, even so!"
"Well, it was dark. But ... but you were naked!"
She chuckled again. "I like to live just a little
dangerously. I love to see a double-take. But you disappointed
me."
"How?"
"You looked stunned at first, when you figured it out,
but then you got quiet ... and thoughtful. What were you
thinking, Perry?"
He grinned. "All right, I'll tell you. I thought Harry
was setting me up again."
"Harry?"
"He's strong on what he calls practical jokes. He bribed
a maid to put flowers and an icky note in my room the first night
I was here."
"He did what? What was in the note?"
"A secret admirer would call on me at midnight."
She removed a smile from her lips. "And did you wait up,
Perry?"
"You know it!"
"He sounds like a bastard."
"He certainly was the next day!"
"I'll bet. Well, this is no joke, Perry, practical or
otherwise." She bent forward over him, brushing her nipples down
his side. Mouth replaced hand.
He sucked in a breath. "God, Kate!"
Her hips rose and she crawled peculiarly around him,
rolling her body without removing her mouth, to crouch between
his spread legs. Both hands gently worked his testicles while
her lips milked him vigorously. After a minute's effort she
raised her head and smiled. "You have nice equipment, Perry."
"Thank you. Yours is nicer."
"Thank *you*! But yours is so straight and smooth ...
and uncut. The protected glans is so pleasantly *slick*! And
you have no bulging veins."
"I'm glad you like it. Isn't it about average?"
"Heavens, Perry, I don't have that much experience!"
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean --"
"It fits me perfectly," she asserted, grinning at his
sudden blush, "as I shall now demonstrate. Please observe!"
She squatted over him and made the subject article
disappear. "See?" She rolled slightly backward. "Feel that?"
"Your ... cervix?"
"Exactly: a perfect fit."
Her hips began to move forward and back. He answered her
with a matching thrust. His hands rose to cup the full breasts.
She smiled at that, eyes drifting close.
She was unconcerned under the bright headboard lamps. He
studied her, trying to guess her age. Her skin was perfect to
all his senses. Not a wrinkle was evident. The hands that held
his forearms were unblemished except for the tendons on their
backs. The faint blue tracery of veins was evident on her chest
and, as he had noticed earlier, around her nipples. Physically
he could hardly believe her much older than himself. But he had
never known a woman of any age to be so confident and assured.
At orgasm she raised herself erect and quivered
internally, eyes hard shut, crying through clenched lips, "Oh,
fuck, fuck!" He increased the power of his thrusts but felt no
matching impetus. Shortly she sagged upon him, breathing
heavily, and smiled into his eyes. "Now you get on top."
When he was in position, her legs went around his hips,
heels drumming the backs of his thighs. A few minutes later a
hand darted between them to squeeze the base of his manhood.
Even with that help she managed two more shivering orgasms before
he finally joined her.
This time he backed off her and knelt, panting, at the
foot of the bed. She stretched arms and legs wide and murmured,
despite her own shortness of breath, "Oh, so good!" She smiled
up to him.
"Yes, it was," he agreed. "Is that the bathroom?"
"You go first."
He stood up off the bed and turned to the indicated door.
Watching from her pillow, she called, "Take your pants."
"My pants?"
"They hold your wallet, don't they?"
"You mean if I don't, you'll steal it?"
"I want you to be unworried, Perry."
"Huh! If I can trust you about AIDS, what's a few
dollars?"
She snorted. "You know, you really ought to ask a girl
about that *before* you stop over her clit."
He grinned, "I guess so," and strode into the bathroom
without bothering with the recommended garment.
His bladder was full. When the flow ceased, he washed
face and hands, then thinking of what else might occur on this
incredible night, washed his genitals thoroughly. When well dry,
he whirled back out into the bedroom.
"Your turn, and I'll be glad to wash --"
She was gone!
He checked the closet and rushed out into the reception
room. No sign of her. Back in the bedroom he checked his pants
seriously. Nothing of his was missing. Except his Kate.
Suddenly that was the greatest loss imaginable.
He dashed through the reception room, jerked open the
door -- significantly no longer locked -- and with presence of
mind to flip off the light behind him, thrust himself out into
the cool night air of the balcony. Too late. It was empty of
people, the only motion a moonlit parasol fluttering slowly in
the breeze.
* * * *
"Excuse me, Mr. Brown. Do you have a moment?"
"Business related, Perry?"
"Uh, maybe. Do you know if Ingerson has a girl in this
office named Kate?"
"Kate? Kate who?"
"I don't know her last name. She's young, about
five-five, brunette, slim, pretty."
"Somebody's admin?"
"I don't know what she does."
"Did you check the on-line address book?"
"Yes, sir. There's lots of Kates, or Catherines,
or -- This girl would probably work in this building."
"Kate, eh? What's your business with her?"
"I've ... got a piece of her property. Thank you, Mr.
Brown. I'll just keep looking."
* * * *
"Harry, you got a minute?"
"Oh, ho! So, you're talking to me again!"
"I'm afraid so. Do you know ..."
"It'll cost you. Know what?"
"Never mind."
* * * *
"Guys, I need to find a girl."
Perry had located the three engineers with only slightly
greater seniority than his own at the drink machines. The short
one immediately declared, "*Chercher la femme*! Don't we all."
"Any particular girl, Cross?" asked the fat one, adding
with a chuckle, "Stupid question, eh?"
"Did any of you happen to get out on the balcony last
night?"
The tall one snorted. "We should've been so lucky!
*You* were the only one with no budget assignment."
"What's that got to do --"
The fat one interrupted with a superior smile. "That's
why Brown told you to get lost. It's too early to disillusion
you about how cheap this outfit really is."
Perry shook his head as if dislodging a fly. "Whatever.
Tell me this: does any of you know a pretty girl around here
named Kate?"
"Pretty?" Shorty grinned cynically. "Depends on how
long you've been without. There's Kate Pringle in the
lunchroom."
"Kate?" repeated the fat one. "Was that the girl who
stood you up the other night?"
The tall one snickered. "Better ask Harry Potter."
* * * *
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
Brown looked up from his computer screen. "Come in and
shut the door." As Perry approached the desk, the older man
pointed to an adjacent chair. "Sit down."
Brown was heavy-set, already graying in his fifties.
Black eyes studied his subordinate thoughtfully. Perry sat
stiffly on the edge of the chair.
"Somebody noticed you."
"Noticed me?"
Brown scratched his chin, then took up a document lying
beside his keyboard. "This."
Perry recognized it easily enough. The title flared in
24-point bold: "An Analysis of the Meacham Network Proposal."
In much smaller print appeared the Ingerson name and department
number above the author: Perry Cross. From it he looked up into
Brown's humorless mask.
"Who else has a copy of this, Cross?"
No friendly first name in this interview, Perry noticed.
"Harry Potter ... and myself, of course."
Brown shook his head. "Harry's was still in his
in-basket. Who did you Email it to?"
"Uh, no one, sir."
"Are you sure?"
"Harry got one because he chaired the committee, and
you ... Is something wrong, sir?"
"I don't know. Yet. You were a little too frank in
here, in spots, and I haven't had time to check if the math is
right. You did realize, didn't you, that if it is, we're back to
square one?"
"I don't think it's that bad --"
"It will be by the time *she* gets through with it!"
Perry's eyebrows shot up. "She?"
Brown took a deep breath. "You're about to have a talk
with our chief of development. She's a full vice president and
reports to Roy Ingerson. Her name is Kelly Frazier and let me
tell you, she is a pistol."
"A pistol?"
"To give you an idea, she hired in here four years ago as
the lobby receptionist. Two weeks later, the story goes, she
gave Roy a tip on the market, something she'd overheard on the
bus, while he was passing through the lobby. He created a whole
new service division and made a mint, just because of that.
"Miss Frazier replaced the manager of market research.
Her first trick was to cut her staff in half and her budget by a
quarter. But Roy gives her credit for quadrupling our revenue in
two years. Today most of us report to her, one way or the other.
"And now she wants to talk to you about the Meacham
proposal." He shook the document at Perry. "I'd sure like to
know how she got hold of this."
"Maybe I can find out."
Brown's lip curled. "Just maybe you can!"
"I swear it wasn't me! So far as I know, I never saw her
before."
"Before what?"
"Before now."
"Hmph! ... All right. Take off. She's expecting you."
Perry stood up. "Where's her office?"
"Next to Roy's, of course. 1602."
When Perry reached for the door, Brown cleared his
throat. "See if you can at least talk her out of canceling the
project entirely."
Perry stared at his manager. At last he said, "Did she
really say she wanted to see me about Meacham?"
"What else could it be?"
Perry grinned. "Maybe she wants to welcome me to the
company."
"Hmph!"
* * * *
A structural column hid Perry from the sea of cubicles as
he waited for the elevator. He took the brown metal semicircle
from his coat pocket as he had done many times over the past few
days, turned it up and studied the ribbed interior. Someone had
neatly brushed the initials, K, F, onto the metal in red paint or
more likely nail polish. He had been unsure of the F; it could
be a P with the loop flaked off.
"Kelly Frazier!" he said under his breath. "Kate?" He
licked his lips hopefully.
* * * *
The 1602 door stood open. Perry marched through into a
large administrative office. A girl sat behind the desk, typing
with staccato rhythm at a computer keyboard. She looked up,
eyebrows raised inquiringly.
"I'm Perry Cross, to see Miss Frazier."
"One moment." She pressed a button on her desk. "Mr.
Cross is here."
A tinny voice retorted, "Send him in." Perry failed to
recognize it.
"That door," said the girl, pointing to one behind her.
She turned immediately back to her typing.
"I think you're great, too," he commented, marching to
the indicated door.
She grinned without looking up. "Wait till she gets her
stopwatch after *you*!"
He opened the door and passed into an office that to his
surprise was smaller than the outer one. The woman on the other
side of the desk was also tapping on a keyboard. She ceased
almost immediately, leaned back in her chair, hands dropping to
her lap, and looked up at him. She wore a metallic gray business
suit over a lavender ruffled blouse.
He would never doubt those luminous eyes. This was Kate.
But her face betrayed no recognition.
"Mr. Cross, you are a good-looking young man." Her lips
quirked upward. "Don't be surprised. Sexist remarks are
permitted if they're positive."
The timber of the voice was also Kate's, though not the
tone.
She got to her feet and extended her hand across the
desk. In two strides he reached it. On an impulse he leaned far
forward and raised the back of it to his lips.
She permitted his act but quickly withdrew her hand
afterward. Cocking an eyebrow, she observed, "Sexism can be
overdone, you know."
He took a breath. "I'm always asking you, Kate: what's
going on?"
"Kate!" she repeated as if mildly annoyed. She indicated
a chair beside the desk. "The name is Kelly Frazier. Won't you
sit down?"
"Kelly -- Kate -- You're beautiful by any name!"
Her mouth tightened. "Sit *down*, Mr. Cross!"
She glared at him over a finger most effeminately cocked
toward the chair. He could not mistake her wish. He ducked his
head and took the indicated seat. She sat also, hitching her
roller-equipped captain's chair closer. Her nylon-clad knee
nearly touched his.
"You know my cousin, do you, Mr. Cross?" Her voice was
almost accusing.
"Your cousin?"
"I must warn you, sir: she is not well regarded on my
side of the family. Your acquaintance with her will be of no
benefit to you here -- to the contrary, in fact!"
He lifted the hair band again from his coat pocket and
extended it to the woman. "This isn't yours?"
His voice contained more than a hint of pathos. She
looked into his eyes. He thought he recognized a twinkle in
hers, then decided he was wrong. She examined the hair band,
staring reflectively at the painted initials.
"That's Kate's clumsy F," she said, returning it to him.
She leaned back in her chair. "Enough of this mistaken
identity. I have another appointment in ten minutes. You have
that much time to save the Meacham project, if you can."
He stared at her long enough to take a deep breath. Kate
had worn red lipstick. These lips were unadorned, except perhaps
for a touch of something that made them glow. He could still
feel them around his penis. He thought, What a crazy,
unimaginable situation! A recklessness grew in him.
"I don't think it deserves to be saved."
"Why not?"
"The resources could be applied much better."
"Show me."
"I ..." He looked around. "Can we go where there's a
white board?"
She raised a document from her desk. His document.
"Would this help?"
He sighed. "Miss Frazier, could I ask where you got
that?"
"You can answer it, if you think. Who has access to all
the computers in this building?"
"Oh."
"Your time is running, Mr. Cross."
Five minutes later she canceled her next appointment.
* * * *
The chimes interrupted him. He set the report aside and
strolled across his den to throw open the door. The light from
behind him illuminated a woman in a white blouse, dark slacks and
glittering black pumps. "Can I do some--" he began as he threw
on the stoop light.
His face lit, too. "Kate!"
For a second the woman stared at him. Then the luminous
eyes twinkled in a smile. "Are you sure?"
His eyebrows rose. "Why shouldn't I be?"
"I hear you've met the bitch."
"Kate, for god's sake!" He caught her shoulder and
pulled her fiercely against him. Hand behind her head, he forced
their lips together. Her arms rose from under his and slipped
around his neck.
Her tongue answered his. The kiss endured for long
seconds. When at last he raised his head, he breathed huskily,
"Oh, god, I've missed you!"
"Not with clothes on, you haven't!"
He stared for only a second before snatching her bodily
up into his arms. His foot slammed the door as he spun about.
In his bedroom they tore off clothing. She was quicker, proving
to be unencumbered by any form of underwear, and soon gave him
her entire attention. She it was who pulled off his shoes as he
sat on the bedside, following with his shorts, finally kneeling
between his legs, holding up her objective in one hand while the
other cupped dependent lumpy flesh.
"Needs a little work," she judged, cocking her head
critically.
Her mouth descended upon him. He sighed, leaning back.
For a long moment both bodies were almost still. Soon her head
rose. She grinned at him, licking wet lips, then looked around.
"Where's the light switch? I want to see this pretty penis."
He leaned over and turned on the bedside lamp. Her
fingertips stroked him at full extension just before her face.
He commented, "Pretty penis: what an oxymoron!"
She grinned. "Do you think only men can define beauty?
I told you before how smooth this thing is. And, boy, I do love
this slick head!" Her mouth re-enclosed it after her fingers
drew back the foreskin.
"I ... I haven't showered, Kate."
Her eyes twinkled up at him.
"Mentioned it too late, huh?"
She bent lower, concealing her eyes, as her mouth sank
around him.
"God, Kate! It's been *days* since the balcony. I don't
think I can hold off."
Her head began to bob over a surprising length of the
organ. Her hands squeezed gently below it.
"Oh, damn!" he cried involuntarily at the first squirt,
falling back onto the bed. Her mouth ballooned around him. In
the tense silence he heard her swallow. Evidently not enough.
When she raised off him after his last spasm, her chin glittered
with his residue.
"God!" he exclaimed.
She tilted her head. "Good enough as a blow job?"
"God!" he repeated. Suddenly he understood the
difference. In his four or five previous enactments, the
innocently suckling mouths had become painfully unbearable well
before the orgasm was complete. He had necessarily removed
himself, once painting a wide-eyed girl's face with his
subsequent emission. But nothing was unbearable about *this*
mouth!
Not much experience, had she claimed? Well, if she had
lied, he could hardly complain.
She touched her chin with a finger and looked from it
back to him. "If I were crawling out from under your dinner
table, I'd have to tell the waiter this was mayonnaise."
He had to chuckled. "If you were doing what?"
She shook her head. "Why don't you masturbate, Perry?"
"I do!"
"Not much! I thought a man your age gets himself off at
least twice a day."
"At least half a dozen times the day after I met you."
"Did you!" She wiped her face on a bed sheet. "Was that
my fault?"
"You know it! I kept seeing you, feeling you."
"You're sweet to say that, Perry."
She crawled up on the bed atop him. Her body was cool
and soft. Her hand found him and performed the introduction.
His entrance was effortless.
"Ah!" she sighed. "You're not the only one who's been
without."
"Don't you want me to --"
"Huh! Can't you tell it's not necessary? Sucking this
pretty one does for me about what the opposite does for you. I
noticed the other night that it stays up rather well after it
pops. I want a long, slow, easy fuck, Perry."
"We might have one of those in stock."
"I hope so. Oh, this is sweet! Am I too heavy?"
"Just right!"
His hands stroked down her back to cup her squeezing
buttocks. "What a nice, cheeky ass!" he murmured.
"A fitting rejoinder to a pretty penis?"
"Ugh!"
She giggled, but her voice was suddenly serious.
"Where'd you get that bruise on your cheek?"
"I didn't think you noticed."
"I saw it when you opened the door. You haven't been
fighting, have you, Perry?"
"Not really. Harry got me by surprise."
"Another practical joke?"
"On him, this time. He's transferred to Product
Service."
"Doesn't sound like a joke."
"They never really are, when you're the butt. He blamed
me for it."
"You got back at him?"
"Indirectly, I guess. But it was his little red wagon
that he ran over the cliff."
"Metaphorically, I presume."
"Yeah. The wagon was a network project and the cliff was
Miss Frazier, the big boss."
"Aha! And what did you think of the bitch?"
"The ... bitch? She's tough, and all business, but I
wouldn't call her a bitch."
"Doesn't everyone else?"
"She claims you're her cousin, Kate."
"Does she!"
"How do you know her, then?"
"People keep mixing us up. We do have the same
initials."
"You're not ... Kate Frazier?"
"Kate Foley." Suddenly she giggled. "Considering what's
in whom, I guess you'd have to call this the ultimate
introduction. Want to kiss my hand, or something?"
"Hey, how did you know I kissed her hand?"
"Kissed her hand? You did what? Are you sure that *she*
didn't pop your eye?"
"When I met her I thought she was you! She stuck out her
hand to me. Guess I'm lucky I didn't jump over her desk and rip
her pantyhose off."
The eyes sparkled above his. "If it had been me, I'd
have ripped your pants off first."
"I'm beginning to understand that. God, I love you,
Kate!"
"Do you, Perry? Oho! I'm starting to come. Let me
raise up."
* * * *
"Only three times, Perry?"
"Don't worry about it," he answered drowsily. "They were
great. *You* were great!"
"And three jerk-offs tomorrow?"
"Probably. Unless you stick around. Maybe I'll take the
day off."
He felt her hand on him. She said brightly, "Lots of
stamina in this pretty thing."
"More than the rest of me, it seems."
"Are they working you too hard, Perry?"
"I thought so. Now I wish the day had more hours."
"To do me?"
He squeezed her tighter to his side. "You and it."
"Thought you were taking the day off."
"Well, I would. If you wanted me to... No, I can't. I
just remembered ..."
"Something has changed since you met the bitch, hasn't
it?"
"Why do you call her that? Yeah, it's changed. I'm the
chairman of a new design committee."
"Can you do the job?"
"I think so. The guys are learning I've done my
homework. God, they're lazy! If I could just get them as
fascinated as I am ... Why are people so hard to convince,
Kate?"
"95 per-cent of any organization is just ballast."
He turned his head to regard her, surprised as much by
the words as the sudden crispness of her voice.
"Ballast?" he repeated.
"They function to keep the boat from rocking too far or
too fast. And they weight it down." Her face was shaded from
the lamp by his shoulder but still her eyes glowed.
"So what can you do about it?"
"Drop the heaviest lumps overboard and push hard on
what's left."
"But I ... I can't do that."
"Yes, you can. It's easy."
He felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. "K-Kate?"
Her eyes flickered. Suddenly a wide smile parted her
lips. Her tongue licked his chin and her hand raised the
semi-turgid manhood. "Perry, do you suppose there's one more
left in this pretty thing?"
END
kellis@dhp.com
Stories at http://www.dhp.com/~kellis
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