Message-ID: <39286asstr$1037254202@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: "S Jacobin" Mime-Version: 1.0 X-Original-Message-ID: X-OriginalArrivalTime: 14 Nov 2002 03:01:39.0210 (UTC) FILETIME=[26C6B6A0:01C28B8A] X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Wed, 13 Nov 2002 22:01:38 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} Business Lunches (MF rom) Date: Thu, 14 Nov 2002 01:10:02 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: hecate, gill-bates Title: Business Lunches Author: Jacobin Keywords: MF, rom Date first published: 11/13/2002 Redistribution: No Boring Stuff Standard disclaimers regarding sexually explicit material apply. The good reader is reminded in particular that works of fiction often neglect real-world risks and consequences which should be taken into consideration in any re-creation or work-inspired acts. This is my seventh work of this kind. Feedback, comments, questions, are all welcome at jacobin_11111794@hotmail.com You can find my other stories at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/jacobin/www This work is copyright (c) 2002 by the author. You may download and keep copies for your personal use as long as the author's byline, disclaimer, e-mail address, and these four paragraphs remain on the copies. Posting to newsgroups or on websites (with the specific exception of www.asstr-mirror.org) is not permitted unless you have my express written or email consent, and then only as long as no money is charged for access and the author's byline, disclaimer, e-mail address, and these four paragraphs remain on the story. Please respect my work as much as I've tried to respect the reader. -- Jacobin I woke up early and my wife wasn't there. Light cracked through the blinds and across the bed. I got up. Her Toyota was in the driveway. I pulled on shorts, a shirt, and headed out. Making breakfast after my morning run, my shirt clung to my chest. I scrambled eggs. The news blared from across the room (Dow down, NASDAQ down, all local sports teams lost, small animals still cute). A car door, her voice in thanks. Jamie came in the door. I glanced at the clock on the oven. It was seven. She was wearing a black tank-top gapped above jeans, belly button piercing showing. Her short hair was a nasty red, tired from being dyed so often. I sympathized. Jamie was cute even in the couldn't- care makeup, her green eyes flashing. No smile. "I stayed over at Katy's," she said, kicking her hiking shoes off. The smell of cigarette smoke touched my nose over the eggs and toast. "It was like four when we got back from the show." I nodded. "Did you worry?" she asked. "No," I said. I felt the ice in my chest. She stared at me. I pulled the skillet off and scraped the eggs onto my plate. "You make enough for me?" she asked. "No," I said. The skillet went into the sink. I forked up some eggs. A mocking smile and she walked down the hall. I ate my breakfast, cleaned the dishes. I walked back to the bedroom. Jamie stripped her smoke-tainted clothes off. Her breasts popped in and out of the tank- top as she struggled with her jeans. I looked. She didn't. She yelled at me as I stepped into the bathroom, turned on the shower. "Goddammit, Edmund, I need the shower." She stood in the doorway, tank-top and panties, hands on hips. I shrugged, peeled off my sweats. I could play at this too. "What, you're going to work today?" "Yes," Jamie said. I took off my shirt. "So you still have a job, then?" "Yes, Ed, I still have a job." I nodded, took off my shorts, stuck a hand into the shower. It was warm. "Thank God for small blessings," I said. I took off my shorts. Jamie moved for the shower, swearing. I've got a good four inches and a couple dozen pounds on her. I pushed her in and followed, pinning her against the wall. Her hair had given up. Her makeup smeared. She was confused and tired. Her head came up. I kissed her. Her hands came up to pull her tank top over her head. I poured shampoo into my palm and washed her hair. The color ran out with the smoke smell. Jamie made little noises. I soaped her up, the first time I'd run hands across her back, around her cute hand-sized breasts. She smiled, kissed me. "Been a while since we took a shower together," she said. She rubbed a slick hand along my attentive hard-on. "Been a while since we did a lot of things together." She kept smiling, working her hand. I went down, put my hands under her ass, lifted her up against the wall. Jamie wrapped her legs around me. "Oh my-" she started, and I entered her all at once. "Oh!" she exclaimed, her eyes going wide. She leaned into me as we moved awkwardly together. We were out of practice but had five years of dating and marriage behind that. Jamie used her legs and I used the hips. We found our rhythm and moved quickly, panting. The hot water sheared across my shoulder, her slick chest and tight nipples. She bit my shoulder as she started to come. I felt her hold her breath as the first one came, the tightness around my penis. I moaned and felt the warm release over, and over. I opened my eyes. Jamie was still moving against me. Her legs held me tightly, squeezing with each ragged breath of steam she took. My body seared. My nerves hummed and crackled, and my wife took a bite out of my shoulder and screamed. My legs nearly gave. We untangled ourselves. Jamie wore a wide grin. I found boxers, slacks, a polo shirt, a black belt. "Now I'm tired," Jamie said. "I might call in sick after all." I picked my badge off the coffee table. "What are you so sad about?" Jamie asked. "This is what I've been reduced to. I toss my wife in the shower so I can have sex with her for the first time in a month." "Fucking Christ, Ed, here I am, lying on the bed, we just had amazing sex--" "I'm not sad, Jamie. I'm worried." "You can miss one day--" "No. I'm worried maybe I just caught something." It hung in the room. Jamie's face finally moved to anger, and she reached for a lamp. "You asshole," she said. The cord stopped the lamp. She dropped it on the floor, looked for something more substantial than a pillow. "You're the one who comes home stinking of booze and cigarettes, and I'm supposed to think that in all this time since you've started hanging out with Katy and those other bitches, that you're going clubbing and you've never danced with a guy? No guy's ever kissed you?" Jamie stopped feeling for something to throw, and began to wrap the sheets around herself. "Ed, don't say that." "Tell me it's a lie, then. Tell me you've never danced with another guy, that I have no reason to worry." She started to cry. I reached over to touch her shoulder, and she recoiled. "You going to be home after work tonight?" I asked. She shook her head. "Could you?" "I can't. We all ready paid for the tickets, and--" "How much did you pay?" "Uh, like thirty-five." "I'll buy yours," I sad. "Katy can give it away, find someone else. Come home for once. We can talk." "I can't. We were going to drive out, all of the girls, and it was going to be this thing. You don't understand." "I understand," I said. I put on my ring and went to work. Work. The company that pays me makes large things moderately smaller, generate less heat, draw less electricity, make less noise. We employ a ton of engineers, like me, some techies, some customer- facing people. It's a lot like every other company with over a couple hundred people. We occupy two small buildings in an office park. Companies are outsourcing manufacturing. And, increasingly, the engineering functions not related to R&D. Our business boomed. At least, my paychecks didn't bounce. The dress code was casual. I worked with good people who did their jobs. I slept well at night, having advanced technology a little that day. We can't all be Edison, or Faraday. Our floor was open. The cube walls were low, just over desk height. Management maintains there are studies showing that style increases efficiency. I think they got them used for cheap. It was good for conduct. Forced people to use headphones. Putting a conference call on speaker would get books thrown at your head. With manager offices on the interior, the whole floor was bright day-long. I liked it. At eight there under ten people at their desks. The closest was Josephine. Jo was two years younger, fair, red-haired, freckled, innocent looking. Out of college and hired when I was settling into my first promotion. She was on the phone, her feet up on the desk. Her feet were in running shoes. Asics, something that looked like my own Gel Kayanos. A serious shoe. Jo was a serious woman. She waved. I nodded, set my stuff down. Jo had Capri slacks on. With her feet up it showed most of her defined calf. This wasn't lost on her. She read the dress code like a campaign financier pouring over new election laws. I dumped my crap on my desk. Avoiding my house meant working too much. Coming in early. Working too long. Soda cans everywhere, some half-drunk, forgotten when I got on a roll. Loose papers. Notes to myself that didn't make any sense: "No discrete components!" I pulled my recycling box out and started to sort. "Aren't you supposed to shred valuable proprietary data?" Jo said. Her voice was slow and husky. A long curly strand of red hair dangled across her cheek. Her eyes were a soft brown, playing off the auburn. "I'm going to toss the whole box in the shred bin." "Increasing efficiency, are you? I'll see you promoted for this." "Then I was going to shred the shredder." "Are you sure no one's going to get a hold of these valuable notes?" Jo reached over my desk to grab at a stack. Her lean revealed the freckles across her neck, down her shirt, like a crumb trail. A tiny silver cross on a thin chain dangled. I looked away. She straightened up, came in to sit on the desk, crossing her legs. "I was going to make fun of something, but I can't read your handwriting," she said. She tossed the stack into the box. "I talked to the chip fab, they can do it. Congratulations, Ed, you've managed to shave fifty cents off the cost of every whatever thing you shaved cost off of." "Thanks." "You don't seem happy. You have a good weekend?" I looked at her. Jo tucked the red lock of hair behind her ear. Her nails were short for typing. "No," I said. She looked at me. I didn't say anything. "Well, Edmund, it was nice talking to you. I'm going for coffee, getting up to negotiate price with the Far East always makes the morning drag. You want anything?" "How long have you been here?" "Uh, one." She yawned. "You want anything?" "Why don't you just go home?" "I'll get you a mocha or something." She stood up and left. I watched her all the way to the stairs. She turned and caught me looking. She waved. My wife called minutes later. "I talked to Katy," she said. "Uh huh?" "Look, she's pissed we're not going to have a girl's night out, so I told her I'd go, and we'll have our night later. Okay?" Jo leaned in, handed me a cup of something served piping hot from the pits of hell. She giggled when I almost dropped it. The pads on my fingers screamed. "Do what you want," I said. I hung up. "Thanks," I said. "No problem," Jo said. She yawned. "Problems?" "No." The phone rang. Jo didn't change her expression at all, left me. Lunch with Burke and Jo. We'd all worked together for a while before, went out to lunch, kept going after our project ended. I don't know why. Burke's lazy. He spends more time on his fantasy football teams than work unless you kick his ass every day. He tries to stick us with the tab. He makes a big deal of it when he picks it up. When it's our turn to pay, he'll get into the appetizer menu. Things like that add up over a couple of years. He'd been hired away by a company with a weak interview process, as Burke proved. I walked down the street to the Mexican restaurant with Jo. "How long have we been going to lunch?" she asked. "I don't know, you joined in June of 2000, so... jeez, over two years." "Yeah, that's what, a hundred lunches?" "A hundred ten." "But we missed some weeks." "That's true." "So a hundred, that's probably pretty close, huh?" "Yeah, it's about right." "Okay then." She yawned openly. "I'm thinking of leaving after lunch. So what's going on with you?" she asked. "Nothing," I said. "If you don't want to talk about it, it's okay." "I don't want to talk about it." "So there is something going on. What is it?" I smiled despite myself. We crossed the street. "I don't want to talk about it," I said. Burke waited in front. His heavy shirt said "Abercrombie" across the chest in inch-high letters. We shook hands, smiling. "Where'd you get the shirt?" I asked. "Abercrombie and Fitch," he said. Jo's eyes darted to me, sparkling. "It's nice, huh?" We walked in, got our table, looked over menus we could have written out for them. "How's life on the outside?" Jo asked. "It's okay. Linda dumped me." Burke concentrated on carrying a salsa-loaded chip to his mouth. "I'm sorry," Jo said. He shrugged. "Enh. When are you going to go out with me?" "I'm not." Burke smiled, gave a half-laugh. "Why not?" "I don't like you much, Burke. You're lazy, which is not attractive. Plus, why would I date someone who sticks me with the tab every chance they get?" Burke's smile remained on his face as he looked to me. "Nah, I'm just kidding. I'll think about it." Jo reached across to pat his hand. As she brought the arm back, she double-tapped me in the ribs with her elbow. To: All Employees From: HR Subject: Office supplies As part of our continuing efforts to reduce costs, office supplies have been moved from the copy rooms to supply closets. If you require notebooks, pens, or other supplies, please contact your group's administrative assistant. By reducing wasteful use of office supplies we hope to avoid other more painful cutbacks. To: Edmund From: Josephine Sullivan Subject: Re: Office Supplies Employees of lower than VP level are discouraged from holding private meetings in the supply closets. I came into work the next day. Jo was there, waved. I dropped my satchel off and walked across the floor. She watched the whole way. "What's got you smiling?" she asked. "So I went to the movies last night," I said. "Why didn't Jamie go?" "Huh?" "Didn't Jamie go?" I stopped. "Do you want to hear my story or not?" "Sure." "I saw MacDonald and Lewis, together. Holding hands." Jo's mouth went to an 'o' in surprise. "Yeah," I said. "I almost dropped my popcorn. Don't we get fired if we fraternize?" Jo smiled. "Edmund, are you asking me out?" My heart started to sprint. "No." "You're blushing!" She reached up and put her hand on my cheek. "Look how cute you are." To: Josephine From: Edmund Subject: Re: Re: Office Supplies Due to overwhelming booking demand for private meetings by senior management, the supply closets will no longer be used to house supplies. Supplies will now be stored in locked cabinets near each group's administrative assistant. Do not, under any circumstances, enter or disturb the supply closets. Jamie sat on the couch when I came home. "You going out later?" I asked. I put my coat in the closet. "Maybe." "You want some dinner?" "I all ready ate." I nodded. "Okay, then." She started to flip channels. She hadn't looked at me yet. "I was thinking maybe we should look at going to a marriage counselor," I said. "Enh." "Does that mean you will?" "I guess." "Do you want to try?" "Try what?" she asked. I stared at her. She finally looked over. "You know," I said. "Yeah, Ed. Can we talk about this later?" "We have an appointment Thursday afternoon. Will you go?" "Yeah, I guess." I sighed. "Jamie, when we said our vows, did I miss the--" I bit it off, shook my head. She watched expectantly. "The what?" I walked back out the door. I sat in one of our conference rooms alone. Meetings didn't start until fifteen minutes after their scheduled time, because everyone was late. No one showed up on time because meetings didn't start until quarter past anyway. I closed my eyes. I would be fine once it began, but I was all nerves until I got into it. Jamie hadn't come home again. We hadn't talked in days. There was a bandage on her shoulder blade I'd seen when I woke up. It would be a tattoo, I was sure. "What are you thinking about?" Jo whispered. I opened my eyes. She was leaning in from behind me. Her breath on my ear was warm. I could feel the softness of her breasts pressing against my shoulder. I hadn't had sex in a week. Stubborn, I wouldn't take matters into my own hands. I wouldn't take the easy way out, allow myself to think it wasn't so bad, marriage without sex. I wanted to stay mad. It wasn't working out so cleanly. The pressure was killing me. I could feel the sperm in my veins. People could look deeply into my eyes and see them swimming in the blue of an iris. "Jo, if you give me an erection before this meeting I will never forgive you." "I think you will, if I ask nicely enough." I felt the blood rushing, the sound in my ears, my pulse as my dick caught up in my boxers as it tried to rise. Jo stood. I kept my eyes forward, at the door. The earliest of the late wandered in, set his phone and notebook down, walked back out. All sensations ran through my erection. I hadn't been this hard in ages. "Anyway, it's too late now," Jo said. "I guess I'll have to say I'm sorry later." She bumped her forehead against my crown and moved away. I could feel my nipples, my useless male nipples, against the cotton of my undershirt. Jo took a seat next to me. The rest of my meeting trickled in. "What are you doing here?" I asked her. "I'm the voice of the factory." People started to look at me. I was always nervous starting. It would conceal my particular discomfort. "Thanks for coming," I said. "I'm Edmund, I was lead designer on the UID-15 short-form cost reduction project, and I'm going to be presenting our work." I looked at each person in turn, feeling the calm come over me. "The big piece, we moved the graphics, the IO, and the processor onto one chip. That's lower cost, obviously, but also--" Jo had a quizzical look. "I'm sorry. Are you worried about heat?" Others nodded. "Yeah, let's talk about that for a second. We're going to use a new etching--" "Are you worried about using a new etching process?" she asked. The room looked to me. Jo smiled. My erection throbbed. My teeth ached. "In what way?" "Do we have a lot of experience with this new process? Are you worried there might be complications?" The nervousness came back to me. I paused. "We're on top of that, the heat, the etching. We've got a sytem for prototyping --" "Cool, can you do me a favor?" "Sure, what..." Jo's smile lit up the room, innocent and broad. "Can you draw it up on the whiteboard for us?" I felt the first bead of sweat run down the side of my head as I walked out. "What was that?" I hissed. "What was what?" Jo asked. I glared. "Oh that," she said. "Think of it this way -- after you held up through a torture session like that, no one's ever going to think you don't know your shit." Jo's eyes danced as she smiled and peeled off down the hall. To: All Employees From: Communications Subject: ESPP Open Enrollment It's back! JPSE Engineering's stock purchase plan offers a way for all employees to participate in the greater success of JPSEE. Between now and the 15th, employees can sign up for the JSPE Engineering Employee Stock Purchase Plan. You can designate between 1 and 15% of your paycheck to be invested in JSPE Engineering Common stock at a 15% discount to the regular share price (as determined by formula, see attached sheet for details). While JPSEE is not a public company... The marriage counselor was an older guy, fifty. He had a soft, kind face. I sat on his couch and looked at him. "You can put your feet up, it's fine," he said. I put my feet up on a copy of Time. "I don't think she's going to show up," I said. "Do you want to wait?" "No," I said. "I paid, I'd like to get something out of it." I talked for two hours and then stopped. He got me another glass of water. "It's the uncertainty," I said. "I don't know where she is, and when I asked, she didn't ever tell me. Why not tell me, if it's innocent? We're married. I don't think she's cheating on me. But then where's the love? I was supportive. I don't know if she's pushing -- I don't know anything, and she's not talking. Why not at least tell me where she's going? Why not negotiate some kind of peace when I try and work things out. What's happening out there, what's she taking, and who's with her? I don't think.. I don't.." I stopped. "Well now I think she might be cheating." The counselor nodded at me. "Is that a hint?" I asked. "It's not anything," he said. "What do I do?" "I don't know. That she's not here..." he shook his head softly. "That's not good." He stood, stretched. "Talk to her, see if she'll come in. Then call me." I shook his hand, and he stood there. I looked around, and then realized I needed to pay him. To: Josephine From: Edmund Subject: ESM Open Enrollment Back by popular demand! Employees who can't get enough of JSPEE's stagnant enterprise value and continue to invest in its limited future and management are encouraged to participate in frustration release activities. Employees can designate either 'sadist' or 'masochist' on enrollment, depending on their preference, and will be paired with a compatible partner from a related workgroup for regular meetings in supply closets during designated stressful rollouts. Members of the ESM program will receive a 15% discount on paraphernalia. My boss smiled when I came in for the semi-weekly one-on-one. "How're you doing, Edmund? Close the door." I closed the door. "Hey, look," he started. "Before I say anything, great work on that processor. I can't believe no one thought of just clocking it down." "I don't either, honestly. It's totally obvious." "Obvious, Ed, it's hard to see the obvious sometimes. Hey, speaking of that, I want to ask you something." "What's that?" "Are you and Josephine..." "What?" He kept staring. I waited. "You know, I mean, I know you're married and all, but that doesn't always, and you've worked together for years, and there was that thing where you saved her ass, and then there was that other thing where she saved your ass with the... yeah." That hadn't been brought up in a year. It was left off my employee record. I'd made a colossal design blunder that almost went into manufacturing. It was caught only by the last line of defense, a newly promoted vendor analyst, name of Josephine. The time she'd put in was payback. As her lead a year earlier I'd taken the blame for losing files she'd accidentally archived. Off-site. Sent slowest- class to a Dakota storage facility. In December. Taking the hit had cost me most of my yearly performance bonus and saved her her new job. "I don't know what you mean," I said. "When did I save her ass?" "I'm a smiling fat guy, Edmund. I'm not a fucking idiot. Are you?" "No." "So the answer to my question..." "Is no." He leaned back, picked the football off his desk, tossed in his hands. "Good," he said. "You sure listen to a lot of rap for a white boy from northern California," Jo said. She riffed through my stack of CDs. "If you say so." Jo sat on my desk, legs crossed, feet up on the short filing cabinet facing her. Her legs in front of me. I kept my eyes on her face. Jo was wearing a sleeveless shirt, collared, button-down. She had an extra button undone, which made it hard to keep my eyes on her face. "Who are these guys? Black Eyed Peas? Dilated Peoples? What the fuck?" "Not a fan?" She shrugged. I could see, in the gap between spaced buttons, the slope of her breasts, the touch of patterned white of the bra. "I don't know any of these guys. Who's this?" Jo tiled the wallet in her lap up, and I had to look down, her crossed legs, the subtle tone of her thighs. My erection scraped my slacks. I had my hands folded strategically. Jo didn't look. The CD, the CD. "Blackalicious," I said. "That's a great CD, you should borrow it." "Okay." She reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind an ear, the gesture opening and then closing a button gap, exposing and hiding. "What do you listen to?" "Language CDs," Jo said. "Japanese mostly. Are we going to lunch today?" "I've got a lot of work to do. We still on for later this week?" "Sure," Jo said. She levered her legs down, which took a second. "With Burke?" "Yeah," I said. "I'll drop him a line." "Maybe it's time we stopped hanging out with Burke," Jo said. The CD slapped the palm of her hand. She nodded to me. "Thanks for the CD, I'll get this back to you soon." To: Edmund From: Josephine Subject: Annual Benefits Enrollment! This is your chance to take a look at your health, dental, and vision choices and make any changes. Employees who plan to contract sexually transmitted diseases from their bosses, for example, are encouraged to sign up for the new 'Penecillin SuperDose' program. Similarly, employees who instead regularly fellate their bosses should consider the newly added orthodontics options. Jamie had turned off the alarm when she came in. I was late for work, found her in the kitchen. I poured myself some random cereal. Jamie's tattoo looked Japanese. "What is it?" I asked. "Something." "You missed our appointment." "What appointment?" I stared at her. "Our counseling appointment." "Oh," she said. "I forgot all about it." "You're lying." "No." "Yeah," I said. I looked at her, the ring on the counter. I left. "You going running today?" Jo asked. "Yeah." "Where you headed?" "I'm just going to go up past the community college--" "Riverside." "-- yeah, and then hit the trail." "It's nice, I spent two years there before I went on to--" "What's up?" "I want to go." My heart jumped a little, guilt and attention. "Okay," I told her. "Noon?" "Eleven," I said. To: Josephine From: Edmund Subject: JSPEE and Microsoft announce partnership Delivering on the alliance announced at last year's Computer Engineering Conference, JSPEE and Microsoft have launched a new enterprise corporate solution for the rapid deployment of collaborative design tools. "This is a seamless solution for manufacturers looking to integrate seamless solutions for third-party design and manufacturing services," JSPE Engineering President Justine Diemens said. "We are excited to have the opportunity to work for -- I mean with -- the world's foremost software developer." As part of the agreement, JSPEE employees will be flown to Redmond in teams to service overworked and sexually frustrated Microsoft development teams. JSPEE male employees will be chosen by draft, while JSPEE's female employees will be billeted in a four-star Redmond hotel for the next six months and rotated out for semi- monthly vacations and vaccinations. I met Jo in front of our building. She had running shorts and a T- shirt. Her legs seemed to compose two thirds of her height, all tone and tan. Her red hair was tied back. I nodded and we headed out, without words, trying to find a good pace together. Jo's breathing was long and easy. "Why don't you want to talk to me?" she asked as we hit the winding trail along the river, where we could jog side-by-side. "I talk to you all the time." "You know what I mean. About things." She waited on an answer. "About how you're doing." "I think you build intimacy through sharing," I said. "It's the basis of a good relationship. You start forming emotional connections with other women, you're undermining your relationship." "You're talking now." "Yeah." "Why's that?" "I don't have much of a relationship to undermine," I said. "So I've been thinking." "Yeah?" "Just been thinking." A biker with a toddler trailer smiled at us as she passed in the opposite direction. "Thinking what?" I ignored the question and ran on. Jo's breath was soft in my left ear, shifting in and out of sync with my own. "How are you, Ed?" "Not so good," I said. "I get that. Where's your ring?" "What's been going on with you?" "I don't know yet. Ask me again in a week." Jamie made breakfast with me. "You're not wearing your ring anymore," she said. "Why would I?" "Because you're married." "Am I." I chewed my awful granola. Jamie tended her eggs. "Come with me this week, see the counselor." "No," Jamie said. "I've got to work late that day." "What day is that?" I asked. "Whatever day the counselor is." I nodded. It had been weeks since I'd had sex. Erections controlled my body. They came with blushing, tight nipples, crackling skin, aching teeth, and a rushing sound in my ears. My toes, my goddamn toes, felt out of sorts, like they needed knuckle-cracking. The erections were also as large as I'd endured in years, poking out from waistbands, tying themselves up in my boxers. They made me want to cry in frustration. They were with me as I woke. They would not go away. I'd sit on the toilet waiting for the shower to heat and go over the day's work, over and over. I was a prepared, efficient, distracted worker. I didn't look up from my drafting. "Where'd you get the chain?" I asked. "Are you asking because you're fishing for whether I'm religious or not, or did you actually want to know where I got this?" "Both." "I'm not, at all. My grandmother was, she gave this to me when I was eight." "It's nice. Except, you know, for being a religious symbol and all. Hey, let me ask you something." "What are you going to ask me?" I grabbed a piece of paper, sketched a couple lines. "What's this?" "It means 'action'," Jamie said. "Why?" "It's tattooed on my wife's shoulder." "And she wouldn't tell you?" "No." Jo looked at me critically, eyes narrow, looking for something, and then her expression passed. "You want to go to Senior Gustavo?" Jo asked me. "Nah," I said. "I was thinking of making something." "Yeah?" "Yeah, I've got some chicken in the fridge. Maybe throw some potatoes together..." "Nice. Invite me over." I had a nervous habit: when I was thinking about something, I'd twist my wedding band. I wasn't wearing my wedding band. My hands went up and then I didn't have anything to do. I laced them together. "You want to come over to my house for lunch, help me make some chicken?" I drove back to our house. No cars waiting. I let Jo in and started in on cooking, moving around the kitchen, pulling out green onions for her to chop, cutting board, sieve. I reached around her to grab my cooking knife from its rack, bodies touching. She wasn't wearing perfume. I could still smell her, a faint sweetness in her orange-scented shampoo. We laughed, talked about work as I sliced potatoes into a tray. She grated cheese. As we swapped back, she came back across me, chest to chest, and then again as she came back to go after the onions. "Jeez, Edmund, watch that thing." "My fault," I said, blushing. "You stick a squash in there? Jesus Christ." She was smiling, leaning back on the opposite counter. "You want to check it out, or do you want lunch?" Jo smiled. "I could do both." I felt my whole face go back in surprise, my eyebrows up, even my hairline jump back. Her grin grew. "Or I could settle for just checking it out." My pulse pounded in my ear. And I did it: I opened the button, undid the zipper, and pulled my slacks out and down with my left hand, reaching in with the right to keep the erection off the waistband. My penis stood up, gravity barely keeping it from running up on my belly button. Jo arched an eyebrow. "I actually did think you put a squash in your pants," she said. "I thought maybe you were joking around, and then..." she shook her head. "You poor neglected man." She looked up at me. "You want help with that?" "No." "You're going to take care of it yourself?" "I didn't think this through." I looked down. My right hand was stroking. I looked to Jo, who had one hand on hip and the other on stomach. "You can go ahead." "Okay," Jo said, and the hip hand went down into her waistband and the other went up the shirt. "That's better, oh." Her hands moved, known bulges under cloth. "We should stop," I said. I felt the pressure in my groin, the fire in my spine, heat across my body. "We should," Jo said. "Don't." "I need to warn you." "Unh," she said, her knees giving a little. "What?" "I'm going to soak this whole room." She wriggled against her hand. Her head tilted, neck forward, eyes closed. The first spurt arced ten feet to hit the counter next to Jo. It kept on, pasting the drawers, then the floor next to her feet, then all over the floor. My kitchen looked like a Pollack in thick white. Jo stared at me. She bit down on her lip, closed her eyes, and shook. I watched. "Wow," she said. "How much was that?" "That's about three weeks worth." She smiled, straightened up. "You haven't been..." I shook my head. "It's a matter of principle." My post-erection erection was heavy, fat, and slick in my hand. I worked my slacks back on. I would stick to my boxers. "Oh, Edmund," Jo said. She crossed the floor. The splattering smeared under foot. She put a hand up to my cheek. Her hand was hot. She kissed me gently. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her lips brushing against mine. "I'm so sorry, Ed." "Let's, uh, eat," I said. "I'll get the mop. And the sponge, and... yeah." No emails. Jamie hit me with a china plate in the forehead when I came home. It shattered. Stars danced in my vision. I dropped to the floor, banging the back of my head on the tile. "What the fuck?" she screamed at me. I sat up. My forehead felt wet. My hand came down bloody. "Why did I find a red hair in here? A long, curly red hair? Why are there two sets of dishes in the washer?" I grabbed a dishtowel, tried to staunch the bleeding. "Can you take me to the hospital?" "No," Jamie said. My vision started to narrow into a disk, the blackness coming all around. "Please," I said, and passed out. I came to on a bed with a cop looking down on me. "You feeling okay?" "I feel a little light-headed. What's..." I turned my head. There was no one else in the room. "That's a nasty cut you took there," he said. "Eighteen stitches. You know what that looks like to me?" "No." "That looks like someone broke something on your crown. Something sharp. Like a glass, or a plate, or a pitcher of water... probably not a pitcher. They did good work, you might get out of this without much of a scar." "Am I.. under arrest?" "How'd you get that cut, Edmund?" "I don't know. What'd my wife say?" "You're a shitty liar, Edmund. I've only been a cop a couple of years, but come on, give me some credit." "I don't know," I said. "Can I go?" "Look, if this is a one-time thing, you can tell me, I just want to know." "Now who's the shitty liar?" He smiled. "Yeah, I haven't quite gotten the hang of that. Look, maybe I'll see you again and maybe I won't. You seeing a counselor?" "I am," I said. "Yeah," he said. He nodded, slowly, and then finally shook his head. "Have a good night, sir." I waited with Jo outside a packed Thai place that had a delicious and huge Phad Thai lunch special for $7. Jo liked it with tofu. I didn't understand. "What happened to your head?" "Jamie got me coming in the door." "Looks like it hurt." "Not really, I passed out right away." "That's macho." "Isn't it? When I'm not an engineer I like to get into street fights." Jo stared at me, reached up and curled a lock of hair around a finger. "Why?" "She found a red hair in the living room. Two sets of plates in the dishwasher." "So she can go frolic around and do whatever she wants, but you can't have someone over for lunch?" I shrugged. "You might as well be having some good sex on the side, as long as you're going to get beaten up for it." "I guess." Jo smiled. "What are you doing Thursday?" she asked. My therapist stared at me. "I appreciate your honesty, certainly," he said, "but this is not healthy." "You know what I think isn't healthy?" "What?" "This thing with my wife. Letting her drip poison into me, day after day, for two years. Feeling dead, dead and guilty, I know that doesn't make sense, but..." "We should solve one problem at a time," he said. "We need to get you out--" "Ah," I said. "Now you've said it." He rolled his neck a little, the distant pop of a vertebrae in a quiet wood-furnished office. "I didn't want to be the first one to say it," I said. "I understand." Burke came and went. I can't remember a thing he talked about. He'd bought a new SUV. Neither of us cared. He left us together. We didn't say anything for a while. The server stayed distant. Jo stirred her iced tea. "You think we should speed up the Burke phase-out." She didn't speak. "We'll speed up the Burke phase-out. Doesn't even have to be a phase-out. We can cut him out entirely." "When this started, before this started, even, I thought I would wait you out," Jo said. "That I wouldn't be the one who broke up your marriage, or be the rebound, that I would make do until you came around." She shook her head. "Fuck that. She broke your marriage. You're in trouble, and if I have to be the one who takes the fall, then so be it." I paid the bill Burke had left us. To: All Employees From: Building Management Subject: Parking Lot Rules We have received numerous and increasing complaints about high speeds in the building parking lot. The speed limit in the basement garage and the surface lot is 5 mph. For your safety and the safety of your co-workers... I got a meeting invite from our Anna, my team's HR person. Time, room, no details. I showed up to find the conference room packed. Jo was there. My boss, other bosses, HR people. "Thanks for coming, Ed," Anna said. I sat down. "Uh, hi everybody." "We're here to talk about employee relations." "What do you mean?" Anna tapped a chewed pen against her cheek. "Employee-employee relations." "I don't understand," I said. "We're concerned that you're seeing Josephine. Outside of your work duties." "They've got us, Jo," I said. "It's my fault for booking the hotel from work," Jo said. "It was supposed to be a surprise." "For this weekend? Because I booked a surprise hotel, too." "Oh, the tragedy," Jo said. "At the hotel, we were going to have sex." "Can you two knock off the sarcasm, just for this meeting?" my boss asked, rolling his eyes. "Okay, I'm going to be entirely serious," I said. "If there was a relationship, it'd be none of your business. But the truth of the matter is I'm getting divorced. Look." I held up my ringless hand. "It's been a difficult time for me, and my friends -- like poor Josephine here -- have been a great help. I've leaned on them a lot. And if it looks like something else, I'm sorry." They all looked around the room, not meeting my eyes. "Go look it up. Pull my records, you'll see I'm on the Employee Assistance Program, seeing a marriage counselor." "We can't pull your records," my boss said. "Anna can," I said. "In fact, Anna should know that I've been seeing someone. Not what, but you've got to know I'm on the plan now." "Yes, but.." "Couldn't you at least have put this off, saved Jo this fucking embarrassment? Couldn't you have told these people not to worry about it, maybe talked to me in private, gotten the story? What's the point of this?" "Look, Ed, we're sorry." "Then are we done?" I worked. Jo worked. To: Edmund From: Josephine Subject: Cubicle and Hallway Etiquette We have received numerous and increasing complaints about enjoyable employee interaction on the work floor and in common areas. Out of consideration for co-workers who may not be as sociable or have the same social connections, please refrain from eye contact, touching of any kind, or spending more than 5m together outside of scheduled meetings. In the event an impromptu meeting runs over 5m, please take the time to reserve a meeting room and publish an agenda to ensure the widest possible participation. Supply closets are not to be used for such meetings. I yawned. The conference room was empty. I was the only one on- time. It wasn't even my meeting. I left my notepad on the desk along with my cell phone. I went to get a Coke. When I came back, Jo sat, leaning forward, writing notes on her agenda. I walked behind her and leaned down. I kissed her neck softly, pulling back as she started. I took my seat. Her cheeks flushed. I could see her breath quickening. "I hate how meetings start late," I said. "Why not schedule them fifteen minutes after the hour?" "I," Jo said. "I don't know." "You know what I'd like?" "Uh, what?" "I'd like to lay you out on this table, take your pants down, and eat you out." "What?" Her eyes could not have gotten larger. "Yeah. Just go down and make you writhe. I'd love to eat you out for a late lunch." "Unh." "I'll bet you're sweet and soft and delicious. I'll bet you smell amazing with your clothes off. I'll bet I could eat you all day long." Jo let out a barely audible "oh", half a sigh. The first late comer entered. He took a seat. "Hey guys, what's up?" he asked. "Not much," I said. I kept my eyes on Jo. "You up for that? We could still do it now." Her cheeks were bright red. The flush ran across her neck, plunging into her nice shirt. "Uh, I'm sorry. No, no, I think we should look at that later this week," Jo said. "I'll see if I can schedule something." The other six attendees all came in at once. Jo swallowed. "Sorry," our boss said. "We had a requirements review that ran late." "That's okay," Jo said. "What are we talking about?" he asked. "I've talked to the engineering teams and the fabricators, we've got a proposal for draft submissions that will save us on turnaround times and manufacturing costs." Jo let a long breath go. She was grateful she'd gotten through the whole sentence. She squirmed in her seat. "You do?" I asked. "Uh, yeah, we do," Jo said. Her eyes focused across the room. She licked her lips. "Do me a favor," I said. "Draw it up on the whiteboard for me." We came into my house already kissing, door open behind us. Jo kissed like she meant it. I had my hands up Jo's shirt, palms over bra. She reached across to pull up my polo shirt. I'm idiot, didn't plan ahead. My shirt had to come over my head. That meant I had to stop kissing her for a moment. We were in and on the couch. My slacks down to my knees, her freckled breasts pressing against my bare chest. I fell off the couch. Jo laughed. She came down on top of me as I rolled over. I hooked my thumbs into her waistband at the hips. She came up, I pulled, and the slacks came down. I rested my hands on her hips as she kicked the pants off in a graceful move. Her red hair falling over my face, smiling, Jo leaned in and we kissed, softly. I could feel everything in the room, every carpet strand against my back, a fold of slick heat against the tip of my penis. "Yes?" she whispered. "Please." Jo moved down and I came up into her. My legs trembled. My nerves all misfired radially outwards from her touch. Her nipples grazing my chest. Her lips on mine. My hands on the small of her back. I kept us as close as I could, as deep in her as I could manage. "Oh, yes." I said. "Yesss," Jo whispered. I ran a hand through her hair as, with agonizing slowness, we came apart. I could feel everything, her exact position on me though I didn't look down, the coolness of wet, exposed skin contrasted with the blissful warmth an inch away. "I'm not going to last long," I said between kisses. We started to come together again, and Jo moaned softly. "That's okay," she said. "I understand." We came together, moved apart, and that was it. As Jo started to move down, drawing me up again, I could feel her trembling, the tightness too much. "Ah, Josephine, I--" too late, my hips came up, every muscle tightening, as the force of my orgasm seemed draw the rest of my body along with it. Jo's cheek was next to mine. We came all the way together and I kept coming, each one a warm reminder of the last, more powerful one. I felt Jo push herself against the base of my dick, rubbing. I opened my eyes and she was moving little but quickly, eyes closed, flushed. I could feel her contract around me and her ragged breath on my lips. She came softly and then, kissing me as we started to move again, she ground into me harder and came again, panting, shoulders down, shaking entirely. I felt everything, started to put a little more length in the motion. "What's this?" she asked. I put my arm around her shoulder and rolled us over on to her back, her legs around my hips. "Oh yes," Jo said. I pulled all the way out, looked at her before me. She was sweating hard, her abs showing faintly, hair mussed, smiling broadly. Sweat rolled off my chest to her belly. We were both soaking wet, sweat and smeared sex. "Don't you dare," she said. I reached down and she arched her back and we were together again, more familiar now, all the way in and almost out, and Jo gave a moan each time I came down. I lasted much longer until Jo grabbed the back of my head and brung me down. "Tell me before this time." "Before," I said. Jo came forward as I came back, I slipped out and whined for just a second as she sat up, legs spread, took my unnatural hard-on in both hands, and worked its slippery length fast. "Come on, Edmund, come--" she murmured, and that was all it took. I jerked and she leaned in. I kept coming, the pleasure hitting me again as she didn't stop her hands. She leaned back and her lips were smeared with white as the next load started, tapping her under the chin, and I kept on and on, until my legs gave and I dropped onto my back. I looked up at her over my totally limp penis. I felt like I would never have an erection again, that I had given not only every sperm in my system but sperm not yet produced. Jo laughed. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Droplets of cum speckled her chest like her light freckles. Beads ran down her neck together in the clavicle. Jo wiped her chest idly, running a finger between her drizzled breasts. "What was that?" I asked. "I had to get something to eat for lunch." "Maybe we should clean up." "Maybe?" Jo asked, putting her head flat on my shoulder. She fit snug against me. "You have to go to college to get smart like that." "Yeah, but you have to go to a four-year school." "I can't believe you'd say that after what we just did." "I've been kidding you for years. You want me to stop now? Do you want to stop kidding me?" "No," she said. I stood on my front porch, fished out my keys. "It seemed like you enjoyed that," Jo said. She'd borrowed a hat, ponytailed her hair, stuck it through the back, over the adjustable strap. It was cute. "That wasn't obvious? Yes, I did. And you?" Jo laughed. "Very much, yes. So, uh, you've got to tell me, was that the first time that's ever happened to you?" "What's that?" She chucked me on the bicep. "I'll bet you've never had sex that good. Ever. Ever!" I locked my front door. "I've never enjoyed sex that much," she said. "I'll bet you haven't either." We started down the drive. I took Jo's hand. She squeezed for just a second. "I'll bet you lunch that was the best sex ever," Jo said. "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," I said. We walked down the sparse side street, towards the town and the office parks. "Yes," I said. I sat on the porch of my house. The horizon brightened. Steam came off my coffee. I waited. A car pulled up. It was a piece of shit. I didn't recognize the guy who drove her home. He looked at me and started in his seat. A month earlier, I'd have gotten up, pulled him from his car, and beaten him to death with the mailbox. Jamie walked up the drive, trying not to look at me. But I blocked the entryway. "The door's locked, and your key doesn't work anymore. I'm throwing you out." Jamie nodded. "I understand sort of what you're going through. When I was a teenager, I tried hanging out with different groups, drinking, smoking.." I waved my hand, lost my place. "And in college I became me. You, you were going to be a lawyer, and when you washed out, you didn't have anything, and now you're doing what I did ten years ago." She sat across from me on the deck. "Everything I spent, it's forgiven. All the time, well, it was good until lately, so I'm going to remember the rest. We had a good time while it lasted." "Ed." "I don't know how long this thing of yours is going to take. And I don't know who you'll be when you get out of it. And Jamie, I don't care any more. I didn't think you'd stay the same, that we wouldn't have to work on it, but you're not in it with me anymore. I'm too hurt, I'm too tired." She wiped one eye with the back of her hand. "I suspect you've been waiting for this, wondering when I'd cut my losses. So you win, Jamie. You've been thrown out. Have your fun. Don't call me when you're done with this thing." Jamie stood and walked down to the street. I went to work. _________________________________________________________________ The new MSN 8: advanced junk mail protection and 2 months FREE* http://join.msn.com/?page=features/junkmail -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+