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Lester's City - Just a Business Meeting

By: TGStone



Lester was alone tonight, so he had a few more freedoms than he would in company. He cooked a simple meal, a childhood pleasure -- scrambled eggs with cheese on toasted bagels. He let the vinyl version of the Stone's Let It Bleed reverberate loud around his apartment. He was going about in sweats and a frayed t shirt.

He hadn't drunk anything for 3 months; he'd felt the need to....shall we say, get a grip of himself. Now he allowed himself a bottle of smooth red.

He wandered around the space, padding across the carpet in bare feet. Paintings by friends were straightened at last, newspapers put into the recycling.

Last, he did something he would never let anyone else see. He went up to the mantelpiece, and picked up an award trophy. Holding it with both hands, he stared into it. Then he dusted it clean on his sleeve. He repeated this exercise with the other 2 statuettes, and placed them back in position.

His phone pinged with a text alert. He ignored it, and went to his wine glass. He took it to the kitchen and poured in the last of the bottle. After a while he walked to the phone, and flicked to Messages. 'Lawyer' was the last entry. Lester's thumb jabbed the screen, and up came 'Your divorce is legally final at 10 am tomorrow. You're free bud.'

He went up to the windows overlooking the river, and stood watching out for a long time. Lights, and life, slowly flowed in front of him. He finished the wine, and sighed. He murmured to the waterfront below, 'Well world, that's the last time I'm gonna get fucked over.' He took himself up to bed -- he had a big job in the city tomorrow morning.

He walked up from the station into the bustle. At a street wagon he bought a coffee, and rang the buzzer of the tall building. Going up in the elevator he brushed some curls back from his face, and the door slid back to reveal the sleek brick and wood workspace. The model-type behind the front desk recognised Lester, and cheerily waved him down towards the studios.

He greeted old friends and newer associates on today's project. He was 4 minutes early. He settled into a deep swivel chair in front of the mixing desk next to the sound engineer, and waited.

Time edged on, they made small talk. People came in and checked that everyone had drinks. 10 minutes went by. Then 20. With the sighs of agitation from the 6 people in the room growing, 40 minutes came round. Somebody was paying for all this. Still, the all-important client hadn't arrived. Lester had already asked the engineer to call the studio they'd be linking up with to explain the situation.

Lester's phone pinged. With nothing better to do, he checked it. The Lawyer again...'Congratulations.'

So....that was that. 11 years of his life, signed off on the dotted line. After a moment, he turned it off.

As he was returning the phone to his jacket, the studio door burst open. Lester wasn't looking behind him, but he certainly heard the fired-up angry female voice bawling out 'Where's the damn copywriter?!'

The studio hushed. Lester slowly revolved his chair towards the noise. 'Well, I'm the......damn copywriter. Good morning....who are you may I ask?'

She strode up to Lester's chair. 'Exactly you asshole....why haven't you answered any of my calls?'

Taken aback, he hesitated before replying, 'I haven't had any calls.'

'Oh really' she trilled sarcastically. She flipped out her phone, looking at it with a confident leer. 'What's your number?'

'716, 812, 7790.'

She stared at her screen. Her face lost some of it's rigor. She turned from him, and punched keys on the phone. A few seconds later, her sharp tones filled the studio again.

'Hey Louise, you fucked up on the copywriter's number. It's 7790, not 7791. I've been calling for days, no wonder he's sat here not knowing what the hell is going on. Clear out your stuff sister, you screwed up bad. Goodbye.'

She turned to stare at him again. He could hear her breathing through her nose. He took stock of her - power suit, model hair, dominatrix shoes.

He had to break the icy air. 'I'm sorry, but are you involved with the Mercedes commercial we're recording?'

'Involved?' she boomed. 'This is why I was calling you. I'm the new head of marketing in this territory, and we have to change the fricking script!'

Lester let a couple of beats go. 'What happened to Steffan?'

She snorted. 'By now you can probably read it in the financial pages. A few, er, personal problems came to light 2 days ago, and he had to vanish. I'm April Jones, I'm in charge now. So, this goddam script?'

Lester looked up at her calmly, even though she was pretty much in his face by now. He felt sad about Steffan; that was one clever guy, plus a joy to work with. And had this nightmare in front of him just fired someone over the phone?

'Well April, the 'frickin script' has been approved right up to board level, we've all been working towards this for months. In fact, we're late for our link to London. The actor is waiting for us to dial in.'

'Oh yeah, the Brit. That's another thing I'm not down with. Listen, the people we're trying to talk to...'

Calmly Lester cut her off. 'This is the 3rd in a series of commercials that's designed to run until late next year. We're half way through telling a story, and Michael Lamb is the voice of the campaign. We can't stop this now.'

She shooed someone out of a chair, rolled it to him, and sat. She turned back to the person she'd just evicted and announced, 'You. Get me an iced water. Just water and ice, no fricking fruit, ok?'

Spinning back to face Lester, at last she talked a little quieter. 'Story? See that's my problem. We're selling cars guy, duh? People don't need fairy tales....tell em to get down to the showroom and sign. We're selling cars. And remember, it's me that's signing the cheques now.' She crooked her head and flashed her best sarcastic smile.

Staring into her eyes, Lester ran through the possibilities of who she had to be fucking at HQ to have got this job. And he couldn't help but dwell on that 'duh?'

His voice lowered. 'April, do you realise that guy you just ordered to get you a drink is my Deputy Head of Design. Oxford graduate, talented kid.'

'Today you all work for me; he better get used to it.'

Dark thoughts clouded across Lester's mind. He tried one last thing. 'You do know a lot of these cars retail for like, a hundred thousand dollars yeah?'

She let out a bored sigh. '5,000...a 100,000? It's the same deal. Trust me, in business you just take no prisoners honey.' He calculated that she was at least 10, maybe 12 years younger than him.

Lester looked down at the floor, gathering his mind. Glancing up, he half whispered 'April, I need to talk to you outside.' He raised himself to full height, and paced to the door. He didn't wait for her, just walked out into the corridor.

A while later, she appeared. Her heels tic-tacked across the oak floor. 'Lester, right? I do hope we're not gonna get off on the wrong foot here?' She crossed her arms and stood against the wall opposite, her eyes challenging him.

He looked down at her, studying the contours of her face. She was pretty, but probably kept a small army of helpers busy making sure she looked flawless.

'How about we cut a deal April?' He stepped forward, and placed both hands against the wall behind her. Leaning in closer, he stared down over her. A flicker of surprise shot across her face.

'Let me make this commercial my way, just as it was agreed -- and tonight we'll have a meeting about how we should go forward. Blank page. You and me, you call the shots.'

Her eyes narrowed a touch. 'What about the team?'

'Nope. Just you and me. You obviously have strong feelings, and I've been writing these ads for a long, long while. I'm sure we can come to an understanding. Like you say, it's business.'

April fought to not betray the discomfort she felt. He'd physically dominated her with this caveman routine, and that was a cheap trick. She'd wanted to kick his shin. But she was wise to the dirty tricks people used to get ahead, so she lifted her chin slightly and calmly offered, 'Ok, my office, 7pm?'

'No. Scruffy Murphys, edge of Hell's Kitchen. 9.'

He turned to walk back into the studio. 'Wait! Is that a bar?'

Lester stopped, but didn't turn to her. 'Yeah, great bar. Look, unless you fire my agency, I'm gonna write your ads. So if you want to change them, meet me at Scruffy's. He opened the studio door and left her.

Back in the leather swivel chair at the front, he turned to the sound guy and said 'Ok, let's dial up London -- I have some apologising to do.'

April snuck in and sat at the back. Her mind was racing. She didn't listen to the proceedings, just stared at the back of Lester's chair.

A few seconds later, the lights flicked up on the connection box, and Lester knew he was talking live to an actor across the Atlantic. 'Michael, so sorry we're late man, you know how it is -- we had to save the free world here again.'

A deep rich chortle came through the studio speakers from thousands of miles away. 'Oh you poor fucking colonials. Now then loves - lets sell some expensive German stuff, let's make art, and let's get paid.'

The commercial got made, exactly as Lester had heard it in his head. After the collective high 5s, with people drifting out, he smiled at April. Frostily, she met his eyes. Heading past her to the door, he came close. '9, see you then.' At that he was gone.

April was not known for her kindness towards her fellow colleagues....and the rest of that day she was truly a bad-tempered witch. She surpassed herself. At long last the clock ticked by to a point where they could leave, and shake her out of their hair. By 5.33, she was alone.

The meeting was approaching. 'That arrogant pig,' she mused to herself; 'That fucker's on borrowed time.'

She knew that a destruction job came best from a subtle beginning. There was less screaming and shouting at the end that way. Yes, she would fire his agency tonight; but now she headed home to shower, pick out the right outfit, and make herself look devastating. It was all part of the job.

The cab dropped her at the far end of the theatre district. The air was alive; couples chattering arm in arm, the pull of neon, the noise. It was pitch dark night, but that's when this place woke up.

Scruffy Murphys didn't look as bad as it's name suggested. She pushed through the door, and a wall of sound washed over her. Scruffy's had a jukebox, and it only contained rock tunes. She sauntered past the pool tables, taking the place in....it looked roughly 50/50 men and women; at least it wasn't some skanky guy-hole. Not spying Lester, she went up to the bar. A tattooed and quiffed guy appeared in front of her, smiling. 'Yes ma'am, what can I get you?'

'Just a diet Sprite please.'

From behind, a voice cut in. 'That's bullshit. A Heineken for the lady Leon, with an apple vodka shot please my man, times 2.' Lester settled onto the stool next to where April stood. 'Sorry, had to take a leak. You're a little late April, but I expected that.'

'What if I don't drink beer, Lester?'

He smiled. 'In the right place at the right time April, everyone drinks beer. I notice you didn't question the shot.'

Leon reappeared, placing 2 chilly lager bottles in front of them, and 2 shot glasses filled to the brim with clear liquid. Lester picked up a bottle, and raised it up to her as a toast. She glared back. This wasn't quite going as planned. His voice almost purred at her, but only as quietly as the jukebox would allow....'April -- please, do you wanna sit down?'

She sat, and reached out to her Heineken. Drawing it to her lips, she stared into him one more time, then glugged down a third of the bottle. He laughed, 'Good. Try the vodka. It's gorgeous....that's why personally I sip it, not neck it.'

In her mind she said, 'Fine, if we have to play some game here for a while, so be it.' She raised the small glass gingerly, and sniffed. An aroma of ripe orchards surprised her, and she wet her lips with a taste. It truly was delicious.

'Thought you'd like it' he said, watching her reaction. 'Do you play pool, or do you want to wait for the wings?'

'What?' she stammered.

'Sorry, you've never been here, right? Every couple of hours, the kitchen put out bowls of free food on the bar.' He brought up a finger to his mouth. 'Ssssh, it's a ploy to keep people in here, drinking. I suggested it. Around now, it's usually chicken wings. And let's be honest,' he said looking down at her body, 'You won't have eaten.'

April didn't know whether she wanted to punch him, or introduce him to her parents -- just so her mother and he could gang up on her.

She gathered herself. 'Free food?'

'Yeah, it's no brainer marketing. Wings, ribs....stuff you take out the freezer and bake. It's cheap to do, but these guys.....' he swept his hand across the bar, 'Love it. We get a great crowd in here.'

'We?'

Sheepishly he murmured, 'Yeah, well, I kinda own 49% of this place.'

At that she regarded him for a moment....but she had to revert back to the script in her mind.

'Ok, the ads for Mercedes. I gotta be honest, I'm not happy with the direction they're going; nothing personal, but.......'

'April, fuck all that. Come play pool.' He called over to Leon, 'Another round friend.'

'What? This bar may be half yours asshole, but this is a business meeting!'

He looked away towards the front doors. After a moment, in a deep tone he said, 'Hmmm. Beat me at pool, and my firm will resign your account. Just like you want.'

She spluttered, 'This is a game to you?'

Coldly he replied, 'These days April, pretty much everything's a game to me.' He sighed, looking down. After a pause he turned and grinned at her. 'C'mon, bring your drinks, and let's play pool.' He started walking to a table.

Without much option, she followed him. At the table, 2 guys were nearly finished. Lester watched for a moment, then reached into his back pocket. 'I'll play the winner for a hundred' he announced, and placed the single bill on the edge of the table.

Both guys stopped, staring at him. They glanced at each other, then back at him. They shook their heads. Lester shrugged 'ok', and motioned for them to complete the game.

After the guys finished and shuffled away, Lester started to set up the balls. Not knowing whether to be impressed or bored, April said to him, 'A hundred? You think you're that good?'

He laughed; 'Shit no. It was just a big number to get them off the table.' He took a slug of beer, picked up the cue, and with a 'plack' sound scattered the balls over the table.

April had been schooled by her grandad, at his big house down south. It was a close game, and midway through she ended up shouting Leon for a third round of drinks. They arrived with some crispy hot wings. Out of sight as Lester played, she devoured many.

He hit a shot to win the game....but the ball stubbornly echoed between the jaws of the pocket.

'Fuck' he hissed. He drained the vodka shot. April laughed, and walked to the table. 'Got your resignation speech prepared, Mr Writer?'

She aimed, a little unclearly at first due to the swift intake of beer n chaser combos...but glanced a beautiful edge on the final ball. 'Thunk' it went, dropping in. She stood tall and thrust a triumphant fist up in his direction. 'I win. You don't write no more ads for Mercs Writer Man!'

Lester was still looking at the table. The white hadn't finished rolling, and was heading towards a pocket. It bounced softly, nestled...then fell in.

For April, her reaction was pretty calm. She lay the cue down, and stared into the smooth fabric. Eventually she glanced up at him. 'What does that mean now?'

'Well now April, we experience the magical Free 4th.' He walked to her, and said 'You'd like to slap me now, huh?'

Looking up under her eyebrows she confirmed, 'I would fucking love to Lester.'

He put his hand to her shoulder. She didn't bat it away, her defences were beaten down somewhat.

'Thought so. Come on, let's go back and see Leon.' Pushing his luck a little more, he gave her shoulder a squeeze.

Once sat down on stools again he said, 'See, this is the real reason this bar really does well.' He called out, 'Leon!'

Wiping his hands on a towel, the inked barman appeared. 'Ah, time for your 4th Lester? This round's on the house, as usual.'

As Leon busied himself at the fridge, April worked out what the Free 4th meant. 'So, you buy 3 drinks, the house buys you the 4th?'

Lester grinned. 'Yep. There's dozens of bars round here, but we have ways of keeping you till closing time.' 2 beers and 2 shots quickly sat in front of them.

'Your idea again?' she asked.

He chortled. 'Yep.'

'Shit, you're actually not bad,' she almost said to herself. Almost.

Looking into, he slowly said, 'April....you have no....fucking....idea.'

She laughed, thinking he was joshing. But it took a moment for their eyes to unlock.

'So, you lost the pool match. Harsh. I get to keep making the Mercedes ads my way, yeah?'

She retained some of her steel. After all, this meant nothing - it was her call, not something decided on the flip of a coin. 'How about we look at the next sales figures before we get hasty?'

Smiling, he said; 'Do you know how many of those damn expensive cars I've helped to sell? Thousands. Meanwhile, you've sold....uh, none.' He leant in more, 'Sorry to put it so bluntly April, but it's about real experience, and talent.'

She wanted to come back with something sharp, but what came out was, 'And you're all that, huh?' The shots were taking their toll.

He studied her. 'April, it's late, you're in a bar. Loosen the screw for once?' She frowned at him. Then his face lightened, and once again he wrong-footed her. 'Ok, well, do you wanna dance?' He stood, and reached for her hand.

'What Lester? We're gonna do what now?!' She was exasperated. Gently he pulled her up, and started leading her to the loud dance floor. 'Weirdest business meeting ever Lester!' she screamed at his back.

When they reached the wooden space in the middle of the bar, a cheesy but brilliant tune from the 90s cranked out from the speakers. April was seriously non-plussed at how tonight was going, but couldn't help but start to shimmy to the guitar intro.

They danced. And danced a lot more; letting go to the big tunes. Spinning, hip swinging, singing choruses out loud. Between songs they breathlessly gulped their drinks. The night turned into a blur, and more trays of liquor were delivered. There was laughter, and shrieking at songs she'd not heard since her big brother played them when she was a child. She would have shuddered to remember, but she air guitared to Led Zep.

Eventually the lights went up, the music ended, and the place started to wind down. Closing time. They collapsed back onto bar stools. She looked windswept by now. April didn't let go very often, so when she did she let go big. Smiling like she hadn't in years, she offered, 'One for the road huh?'

Lester, a little more used to the liquor, gently said, 'I think you're done April. Work's out of the question as it is.'

Snorting a laugh she came back, 'What are you, my Dad?'

'No April, just an adult.' He softened. 'Look, I live near, and I think it's best if we walk there and you crash out.'

Vexed by his sudden responsible attitude she barked, 'Oh is that right...Mr Writer?' She tried to stand and flounce off, but stumbled badly. Lester caught her, and steadied her until she balanced on her own.

'You ok?' Not looking at him, she nodded. 'Let's get you home.' He held her around the waist, and steered them towards the doors.

The fresh morning air worked some of it's magic, and she was a lot more sane when they reached his dark apartment door. He let himself in, and went inside. April stood, peering inside. She realised this was a habitat very different from her own.


Lester's City - Just a Business Meeting



'Are you coming in or what?!' he shouted from the kitchen, far inside. She could hear glasses clinking.

'Er, it's big', she eventually called back. The barman noises ceased, and she heard him walking back to her.

'It's what?'

'It's, y'know....a really big place.'

'I knocked two apartments into one. Come inside woman. You look like something out of Alice in Wonderland.'

She stepped in, while he shut and locked the door. She gazed around, taking in the high ceilings, expansive stone staircase up to the second floor, the ornate lighting clusters hanging down, the many rooms and corridors leading away from the enormous lounge.

Lester was back in the kitchen. He half shouted to her, 'Look, I know I said we'd had enough, but will you join me in a brandy?'

She walked towards his voice. As she reached him in the softly lit kitchen he held out a large rounded glass, filled with glowing amber liquid. 'It's Armagnac, but this time of night it just tastes like brandy, right?'

'Um, I wouldn't know Lester. I haven't drunk a lot of brandy.' She took the glass, focusing on him.

Grinning he said, 'Well, just fucking taste it then.'

She was 3 worlds away from how she thought tonight would have gone. She rolled the liquor around inside the delicate container. As she brought it to her lips the strong aroma filled her nose. She sipped; a second later she raised her eyebrows. Then she smiled. 'Wow, that is smooth.'

'Yep, works a treat on a frosty morning. Come, let's sit.'

He led the way up the steps on into the sitting area. He gestured to a big, soft looking leather couch. She sat down demurely, cradling her drink. Lester positioned himself on a padded foot stool in front of her.

He let out a long sigh. 'April, half an hour ago you were a little woozy. Just relax, put your feet up.'

She placed her glass on the low table at the side of the sofa. Reaching down she eased off one shoe, then the other. She checked his face briefly, then lifted herself up into the couch, and reclined back into it's comforts.

She couldn't help but mutter, 'Oh god, that is lovely.' They stared at each other for a moment, then she broke off to reach for her glass. She sipped again, as a thought vaguely tripped across her; 'Ok I was supposed to trash him tonight, but heck he has a nice place.'

Lester took a drink, then held her gaze. 'So, what colour panties are you wearing?'

She was totally still. At last she came back, 'Excuse me?'

'I'm presuming you are wearing panties?'

She could barely snort back, 'Of course I fucking am!'

'Right. So what colour?'

She took a second. 'We came out tonight to discuss an advertising account, and you wanna know what colour my panties are?'

'Yes.'

The stand-off lasted a while. Eventually she brought her glass to her lips, and drank.

'Black. If you must know. By Aubade, about a hundred dollars. We done with that bullshit now?'

'Good. So show me.'

A laugh spilt out. 'You fucking what?'

'Show me them April.'

Their eyes hadn't left each other's for maybe 50 seconds.

'And why the hell would I do that Mr Writer man?'

'Because, I think you'd like to.'

The silence, and the seconds ticked by.

She surveyed the dark brown eyes fixing into her, with a couple of crows feet at the edges. The tousled unstyled hair, and the flecks of grey at his temples. Looking at the face in front of her, she realized he truly didn't care too much about whether his behaviour was acceptable.

'You're humorous Lester.'

'Try me. Really.'

Eventually she chortled to herself. 'Jeez, we're playing truth or dare without any truths. Weird.'

She raised an eyebrow, to tell him that she liked games too. So be it. After placing the glass down again, she swung her legs forward, and stood. Regarding him from above, she snaked a hand behind herself, unhooked the clasp and lowered the zipper. Instantly, the fabric relaxed. She let the skirt fall to the floor, and kicked it away. Her fingers rested above her hips. 'See, black, like I said.' Without thinking, she angled her body slightly to the side. Lester's eyes were focused on her middle.

'You like, Mr Writer?'

He just kept looking. After a pause, he breathed in hard, then exhaled. 'They are beautiful April. But you have to take them off now.'

Even though she was happily playing along, this didn't feel like a game anymore. Hell, she liked being stared at by a lusty male, especially after a few drinks. But this wasn't being dared to wear a micro-bikini at spring break, or flashing for beads in New Orleans. The air they were breathing felt thicker now. A thin film of lace was the only flimsy barrier to it. If she continued to toy with Lester, there may be no way back.

'And what if I do?'

'Then, you will have my full appreciation.' He was looking back up into her eyes, ignoring the sheer triangle below.

She looked down at him, and grinned. Maybe there was a way back; maybe she could trash him via this sleazy route. Get him thinking he'd won; then pick up her stuff, walk out and leave him hanging. It'd be revenge for the stupid pool game.

She hooked a thumb into each strap, and glided her panties down her legs to her feet. Standing back up, she gently kicked them off too.

He wasn't staring at her eyes anymore. 'Happy now?' Lester didn't reply. 'I said, are you happy now?' She just about stopped the smirk from reaching her mouth. At last, a warm little tingle of power swam over her.

Finally he looked up, and muttered, 'Please, sit back down April.'

She primly lowered herself, content with her work. She was about to reach for her clothes and go, when Lester sank forward to his knees between them. He was close to her, and said, 'I want you to lie back again.'

Thinking she'd out-bluffed him, she looked at him for a second, brows knotted. In a low voice he came again, 'Lie back down on the couch.'

His intensity surprised her. Not having another reply ready, she felt exposed now. Looking down onto her bare skin, he asked more gently, 'April, please lie down now.'

Her pulse raced. The room became intense, and to her it shrank down to just them, nothing else. Leave? Sensible, she'd let this go way too far anyway. Stay? Stupid, but more tantalizing by the second. The arguments within her head were raging; but she was entranced by the look on his face, which seared into her private flesh.

Instinct took over; she didn't feel sure, but something inside her made her body do as he said. She reclined, and his face was less than a foot above her naked bush. She could feel his breathing. 'Now, undo your blouse.'

Only four buttons remained fastened after all the dancing. She was adrift now, aware she was on a journey that she would not be navigating. With finger and thumb she swiftly released the straining buttons, while relaxing her thighs.

He brought both hands up to her stomach, and parted the blouse open, exposing her torso. He placed his palms on the ribs under her bra, and with an achingly slow pace traced his hands down the sides of her midriff. His fingers settled on her hips, then moved in to start circling her hip bones with his thumbs. All the while, he gazed intently at her cunt.

One set of his fingers descended down her belly, towards the flush of her pink. His other hand followed suit, tracing the muscles underneath her skin. His fingers joined forces either side of her mons, and lightly pulled her open, separating her lips apart in a tiny gasp from each other. He leant forward, his eyes drinking her in; then he dipped his head and kissed her clit.

She squirmed. She wasn't expecting that, and the jolt of it thrilled her. April knew that she was at his whim now; she was pretty much naked with a fully dressed man between her thighs. Her muscles fluttered, and she felt her juices start to trickle.

He leant back. 'Pick up your glass April.'

She was conditioned to challenge and question anything she was told to do. That had passed though; she reached over and brought the brandy to her body. 'Good. Now pour some onto yourself.'

She looked at him again, seeking some flicker of communication. He only looked down at her middle. 'Pour.'

She angled the glass just below her bra, and tipped it until a thin line of Armagnac fell out onto her skin.

Instantly, it melded with her warm body, spreading and falling downward. The golden liquid snaked over her, down her stomach, out into rivulets. He was watching their every move. The streams rolled to the top of April's manicured pubes. Through the neat hairs the tides met and became one flow again. As the first droplet hovered over, and then finally fell onto her clit hood, Lester pounced. He took her bud full into his mouth, lips caressing the flesh and sharp alcohol. He drank, sucking up every last drop as it flowed down her.

April had to gasp; head thrust back into the couch, her hips pushing into his face.

'Again, pour more. A lot more.'

In thrall of the sensations, and the total abandonment of the moment, she tipped much of the glass onto herself. As it cascaded down her, Lester tried to catch every trace. Licking, sucking, his mouth darting over her to wherever the golden fluid came next. Her juices mingled with the flow, and he tongued down to her ass to gather up the very last streams. Licking back up he caught every droplet that still sat on her, right back to the start of her chest. His eyes were level with hers now, and he flashed a cheeky smile. 'You taste good.'

April simply breathed hard, and waited for what he'd do next. That was -- to snake his tongue back down her belly, raise his hands under her buttocks, and cup them.

He started to lick her with real intent; no more games. He kneaded his fingers into her soft ass flesh. He devoted his tongue to her clit, devouring it fully into his mouth, and sucking it between his lips. A rhythm built up, his strokes up and down her clit firm and steady. All the while he gripped her ass harder, pulling her into his mouth.

She started to tense under his fingers. Her breathing became shallow, whilst her moans turned sharper and shorter.

Lester stopped. He raised his head, pursed his lips, and blew cold air onto her pulsing flesh. Then he knelt away from her, and sat still. He had called a ceasefire.

Slowly her plateau fell away, the moans stopped, and ecstasy slid away into anger. She raised herself onto her elbows and demanded, 'Lester, what the fuck was that? I was gonna cum.'

'I felt it was a little soon.'

'Oh did you! You don't mess with people like that, asshole!' She shifted to get up, but he lifted up and gripped her hips in place on the couch. 'April, trust me.'

He shifted his palms to her midriff, and gently pushed her body back down. She glowered at him, but yielded, snorting shallow breaths.

Once she was prone again, and her body untensed, his mouth came back to her cunt. Lapping gently, teasing her folds, he worshipped her flesh. Flicking repeated circles over her bud, darting his tongue down inside her, and pressing it up hard into her front wall. Always coming back to an ever more dedicated motion on her clit, he built her up to where he had left off before. And she came back even stronger.

Reaching up with his fingers he spread her clit hood back to expose her more, and licked its swollen splendour furiously. He felt the twitches grow in her stomach, her moans grew loud again. He knelt back and unbuttoned his jeans as fast as he could. Freeing his engorged cock, he pushed her thighs up so they rested either side of her chest, and guided himself inside her warm lips. Placing his hands behind her head, he thrust in deep, as April cried out. He fucked hard, raising himself up her body so his thrusts caught her clit on each in-stroke. She bucked into his body, matching his stride. April was no longer in the room, she was lost behind her closed eyes. Her mouth, her muscles, her fingertips; they carried the echoes of the convulsions starting to ring out from her middle.

Lester kept gliding his tip of his cock back and forth inside her as she caught her breath, and the spasms calmed. He stared down to the point where he was still joined with her.

'Woah.....I didn't feel you cum.'

'I haven't cum April.'

She reached a hand out his abdomen, nestled between her legs. 'How do you wanna finish off Lester?'

He looked into her eyes. 'In you. But with a different view.'

'Ok, where do you want me?'

He slid the last of his cock back out of her. 'Stand up.'

Her body was at peace, the couch was very soft. So with a little effort, she stood. He got off the floor and sank back into her spot on the couch.

'We seem to have used your drink. Mine's down there somewhere.'

She turned and spied the glass. She revelled in bending over to pick it up, knowing he'd be staring at every inch of her. She turned saying, 'You want some?'

'You probably need some first. Drink April.'

She smiled -- after all that she was thirsty. She took a draught into her lips, and rolled it over her tongue. The glow lit her up. She was looking down at his hard cock, wet with her juice. Handing him the glass she said, 'So where do you want me?'

Taking the glass, Lester brought it to his lips, and glugged it all down. He lifted his legs up so he was laying down the length of the couch.

'On top, but with your back to me.'

'Ooh, a reverse cowgirl, naughty.'

She walked to the couch, turned her back, and swung one leg over him, kneeling. She brought her other knee up to nestle against his thigh. She bent forward, arching her back. Lester gazed in to the perfect view of her; the spread ass cheeks, the lips, the openness of it.

Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at his engrossed face. 'You ready Lester?' She raised herself and reached down to his cock. Placing her fingers around his shaft, she drew her hand up and down, making sure he was ready. She needn't have worried -- Lester was still rock hard.

She placed the bulb of him against her lips, and used it to open herself out. Then she slipped the hot head inside, and pushed her hips down on him. She was soaked, he slid in like a dream.

April then sat back, filling herself with him. She started to ride him; gently at first, enjoying his cock stretching up inside her, and the feel of his balls against her lips. Using her thighs to bob, she built up a rhythm that appealed to them both. She could hear his breathing grow behind her, and knew he was staring hard at her rear.

He rasped at her, 'Lean forward April, onto your hands.' She lowered herself down until her arms took her weight, between his legs. Arching her back again to keep the good fuck angle going, she knew she was totally exposed to him now. He groaned, and pushed up into her strides.

Lester was enjoying a view that other men would pay thousands for. He was transfixed by her lips gripped around his shaft, and her asshole an inch above. He wet his little finger in his mouth, and reached toward her undulating ass. In time with her motion he placed the finger tip on her crevice, and as she rocked, he eased it slowly inside.

April gasped, but pushed down more on it. The more she fucked him, the more his finger snaked into her ass. Illicit sensations erupted inside her, and she bent her head down to the couch to concentrate. Her body was now a small storm of pleasure again.

With much symphony the pair soon came, Lester pulling her hips down to him. Juices doused each other inside, but didn't calm any heat.

Spent and gasping, time disappeared.

Eventually April shifted back, collapsing next to him. Still breathing hard she said, 'Well this wasn't what I thought was going to happen tonight! You were right, I ain't gonna be in work for 9!' She laughed, then placed a hand on his chest. 'Let's go to bed Lester, so we'll be in a great place to do this again tomorrow.'

He was silent. As the seconds stretched out, April glanced at his face. He was staring up at the ceiling.

'Lester?'

He sat up, and coughed. 'I'll call you a cab April.'

She certainly wasn't expecting those few cold words. 'What? Er, why? It's late, I'll happily.....'

'You have to go. I'll call Bob on the desk downstairs, a cab will be waiting.' He shifted, and stood up, his back to her.

'Lester? What the fuck is this? We just....'

'Yeah, we did. But.....' He turned to her. 'Be honest; we don't like each other April.

'Ok, I never thought we'd be fucking, in fact quite the opposite. But tonight was fun, right?'

He breathed out...and finally said, 'April, how about I put it this way? You're not a very nice person.'

He stared at him, mouth slightly open. 'Excuse me?'

'You're rude, egocentric, and you don't know anything about the world. Firing some poor girl over the phone? Was that some sort of performance for our benefit?'

The moon was illuminating him now.

April's mind was scattered. 'Her? She messed up, this campaign was important!'

'And you didn't even understand the campaign. So how could you work within it, huh?'

She just glared at the floor.

Lester swallowed. 'I had no idea how you got the job April, so I called George this afternoon.'

She flashed her eyes at him. 'George?'

'Yeah, head of the division. He explained a few things, like how you'd got promoted just so they could avoid a big harassment lawsuit. How it was only temporary til their lawyers gathered all the evidence they needed. Then you'll be gone. And he told me my agency would never lose the advertising account, seeing as - using George's words - we help make everyone get rich.'

She was desperate now. 'But!...'

'But nothing April. You want some constructive criticism?' He turned to face her. 'Stop acting like a child. Sorry to guess, but did Daddy call you a princess once too often? Life isn't like that.'

She raised up sharply off the couch and screamed, 'Fuck you asshole!'

April gathered her clothes, and hastily dressed. When finished, she stood staring at Lester, fury in her eyes. She came forward and whispered roughly into his ear, 'I thought you were just another middle-aged idiot yesterday morning....but now I know you're just a fucking dick.'

Lester started to walk towards the windows. 'I'll phone Bob. A cab will be here for you immediately. It's on me. Goodbye April.'

He heard her stomp out, and the door slam hard. The sound echoed around.

Lester picked up his phone and muttered a few words to the concierge downstairs. Then he looked down at the activity on the river below. Slowly, he rested his head against the glass, and closed his eyes.

####

© TG Stone 2013