0 comments/ 16750 views/ 4 favorites Wednesdays at the Venice Cafe Ch. 01 By: zukethecuke Chapter One: First Wednesday Philip hadn't been down to the Venice in a couple of years, maybe longer. He'd been a regular for a while, but just got out of the habit. Then a friend recommended a band called Blindfold and said they played at the Venice on Wednesday nights, Bennie's old spot on the calendar. So here he was, nine-thirty on a Wednesday, stepping in and paying his cover to Bill at the door and making his way back to the bar. The band was in full swing – he'd been able to hear that half a block away – and there was a fair crowd. Not the crush there used to be sometimes, but the stools looked to all be taken, and a few people were leaning against the wall over by the stairs. There'd be seats upstairs, but Philip always preferred to be down with the band. He recognized the drummer from other bands, and the harmonica player, too. Blues bands around town have a pretty fluid cast of characters. These guys must have started on time. A nine o'clock start time usually means that's when the band starts lugging their equipment in. Philip got the bartender's attention and ordered a bourbon and water. He stayed leaning against the bar, scanning to see if he'd missed seeing an empty seat somewhere. That's when he recognized one of the women sitting at the tall cocktail tables between the bar and the band. Seeing her out of context, it took a couple of seconds for it to register that he knew who she was: Kathleen, from work where she'd been his user group contact for a project last year. She'd been pleasant to work with, and very pleasant to look at. They must have been in meetings together a couple dozen times. She was sitting with another woman, both of them clearly enjoying the music. The band wound up that number and launched into Dust My Broom. Kathleen's friend leaned over and said something to her, Kathleen nodded, and the woman collected her purse and headed for the door. An empty seat. Philip thought about claiming it, but decided against it. He could stand. And the friend might just have gone to get something out of her car. Who knows? Half a dozen songs later, the lead guitar announced a pause for the cause, and suddenly the whole crowd realized their glasses were empty, Philip included. The bartender was swamped, but Philip had a certain positional advantage over most of them. "Oh, hey! I know you! You're Philip! The guy from Facilities!" Philip turned away from the bar, looked back at Kathleen, who was standing by her table. "Well, hello! I saw you sitting there. Recognized you even with your back to me. You want a refill?" "Sure! Vodka tonic." When the bartender got to Philip he ordered another bourbon and a vodka tonic, and then worked his way over to Kathleen's table with them. "Here you are. Enjoying the band?" "Blindfold? Yeah! We love 'em, come down here almost every Wednesday night. Girls' night out. Haven't seen you here before, though." Philip shrugged. "First time I've been here in quite a while. Wednesdays here used to belong to Bennie Smith and his band, but that was years ago. Mind if I take this stool?" "Please! My friend Kris was here earlier. She'll be back, but not until late." "She's not such a big fan of Blindfold?" Kathleen looked uncomfortable. "Oh, she is. But she had to meet someone." Philip raised an eyebrow but decided to change the subject. "So you guys happy with your new space? I haven't gotten any complaints." "Oh, yeah. It's fine. It's still life in a cubbyhole, but it's a much nicer cubbyhole than we had before." "I figured if your department was really unhappy my first clue would be that all our computers would stop working." Kathleen laughed. "Yeah, if tech support ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. We should get that printed up on tee shirts." The band was back up front. They started the set with Sweet Home Chicago, then moved into Soul Serenade. Philip leaned over to Kathleen to be heard. "The guy on slide guitar is really good." Kathleen grinned and bobbed her head, leaned over to Philip. "He really is! They had another guy take his place last week who was even better. Older guy." Philip could feel the warmth of her breath on his ear. He scooted his stool closer to hers. He leaned in. "Slightly built white guy? Mustache?" He leaned back, she leaned in to him, which put some strain on the top button of her blouse. "Maybe. I guess." She didn't lean away, but turned her head to hear his response. "Might have been Tom Maloney. He's one of the best." She nodded. "Maybe. I don't remember his name. But he was good." They couldn't really carry on much of a conversation over the music, but Philip enjoyed Kathleen putting her head close to his. She didn't seem to be shy about it. They finished their drinks and Philip got them fresh ones. The band played on. At the end of the second set Kathleen excused herself, picked up her little clutch bag, and headed for the ladies' room. When she got back she put her hand on Philip's shoulder to steady herself as she climbed back onto her stool. He put his hand on her waist, lightly. She turned toward him, her knees against the side of his thigh. "Look, um, I don't want you to misunderstand. I just come for the music." Philip smiled. "That's fine. Me, too." Kathleen opened her mouth but took a second to actually say anything. "Well, good. I mean, covering for Kris is one thing, but I don't want, well, I don't want you to think she has to cover for me." "You don't take turns?" "No! I mean, she's got her issues, and her husband is kind of an asshole. I'm not going to throw rocks at her for stepping out on him. She's been my best friend since high school, for fuck's sake!" "And you don't have issues and your husband isn't an asshole so she never needs to give you an alibi." Kathleen didn't say anything. She drank the rest of her vodka in one swallow. "My husband's a decent guy. I didn't say I don't have issues, just different. And besides, that not just a friendship ring you're wearing." "We all have issues, if the word means anything. And I may as well be here as anywhere. My wife's got her night out with friends, too. I don't think there's anything to that. Nobody's turning a blind eye to anything because they're all nice and proper pillars of the community so there's nothing to pretend not to see." Kathleen caught something in his tone of voice and looked sideways at him. "You sound like maybe you wish she weren't so nice and proper." Philip looked at his glass, at the band returning for their final set, back at his glass. He drained the last of the bourbon. "Maybe I just wish she got her share of the hangovers and mistakes. You want another drink?" Kathleen picked up her bag. "No. I want some fresh air. Let's go out front." They left their stools and empty glasses and headed out. Philip nodded at Bill at the door as they passed. It was noticeably cooler out on the sidewalk. Kathleen leaned back against the front wall of the building, her left knee bent and her foot flat against the wall. She folded her arms under her breasts, which made her figure even more appealing. Philip stood to her left, leaning his shoulder against the building. Neither spoke for a while. "Okay, so I didn't say I never made mistakes, and I sure as shit know hangovers. My decent guy husband is pretty plain vanilla. I love him, but he'd rather sit home and watch the news than be here. Which is lucky for Kris, I guess." "She'll be back tonight?" "She'd better be! She's driving my car! She'll get here maybe twelve-thirty or so." "It's midnight now." "Shit. I wish I still smoked." "Everybody needs a vice." "Maybe half a dozen. Will you be back next week?" "I'm inclined to. Save me a seat. So tell me, Kathleen: What do you really want?" She snorted. "Really want? Really? To not get caught. To do any fucking thing I want and not get caught. Not even by myself." Philip laughed. "Ah! Yes, of course! If you don't catch yourself you don't have to feel guilty!" Kathleen turned and looked at him. "Well, yeah! I mean, that's half the problem, isn't it?" "I think that's sort of what's behind most bondage fantasies: I can't feel guilty for what just happened because I wasn't responsible because I was all tied up with these silk ropes, right?" Kathleen had caught her breath and looked away. Philip stopped leaning against the wall, reached over and touched Kathleen's chin, turned her face toward him. Softly, he said "Well. Have I touched a nerve? A taste for something other than plain vanilla?" "I just don't want to see myself as some kind of cheating slut." "You won't see anything. I'll bring a blindfold." She looked down, pursed her lips, considered the situation. But she didn't back down. Philip watched her, thought about what he'd just committed himself to, thought about the consequences, thought about the rewards. She had an attractive body, certainly, but a more attractive spirit. He wouldn't back down either. A car rolled past, slowly. Kathleen quit leaning against the building, dusted her skirt, and watched the car – a white compact, maybe a Toyota, Philip wasn't very good at knowing one make from another – back into a parking space up the block. "That's Kris. I'm just gonna go meet her. Next week?" "Let her do the driving. Next week, here." Philip watched Kathleen stride up the sidewalk to where the car had parked. Strong, determined steps, with maybe just a hint of a vodka wobble. * * * Thursday and Friday, Philip resisted the urge to drop in on the IT department to follow up with the director on how the new space was working out, maybe take a walk through, chat with the staff. On the weekend he and his wife went shopping for new sheets and towels. Philip's eye for color and pattern was much better than Mary Ann's. He'd been thinking about bandannas, since handkerchiefs were usually too small, but while they were in the linen department he spotted cloth napkins. Big squares of soft, heavy cloth. On his lunch hour on Monday he returned to the store and bought four napkins, each a different rich color – deep red, royal blue, gold, and cream. Back in his office, he closed the door, cleared a spot on his desk, and took out the gold napkin and spread it out. He folded it into diagonally, then folded it over again and again in one inch strips. It made a fat and bulky blindfold, and the last fold kept flopping down, but he covered his eyes with it and found it was just barely long enough to knot the ends behind his head. He tried again, folding the triangle in wider strips, but the tail of the last fold still wouldn't stay put. He folded it again, this time starting with the tail and folding towards the long side. There. No loose end. He folded the others to match. On Tuesday he got into the department's employee parking spreadsheet. If he ever needed to close off a few spaces in one of the garages for concrete patching or to repair a guard rail, he had to know who those spaces were assigned to so he could give them an alternate assignment. Now he just reordered the list by last name and found Kathleen. North Garage, space B34. He closed the file without saving the changes. Mid-afternoon on Wednesday, Philip took a clip board and a flashlight and walked through the North Garage looking for damaged concrete. A white Toyota was parked in space B34. Philip took a dark blue blindfold out of the pocket of his jacket and knotted it around the driver's door handle, then continued on his inspection tour. * * * After dinner Philip made excuses to his wife for leaving as soon as the dishes were done. He left the house and began making the necessary preparations. By nine o'clock he was done. He drove to the Venice Café, parked, and went in. Kathleen and Kris were at one of the cocktail table, and Blindfold was cranking out Built for Comfort. Kathleen saw him and waved him over. "Kris, this is Philip, from my office. He's who I ran into last week." Kris smiled and shook hands with Philip. She was about the same height at Kathleen, but quite thin, with a narrow face. They had saved Philip a seat. He worked his way over to the bar, got his bourbon, and joined them. They couldn't talk much except between songs. Kris worked in retail and drank chablis. That's about all Philip learned before she excused herself and headed out. At the end of the next song he leaned over to Kathleen and asked "Are you ready to go?" She nodded quickly, picked up her purse, and slid off her stool. Bill the doorman smiled and nodded his wise smile as they slipped out. Philip offered Kathleen his arm, and they strolled down to where Philip had parked. "Did you tell Kris what we're up to?" "Do I know what we're up to? No, I told her about knowing you from work. She'd seen us talking outside last week." She didn't sound as bubbly as she had last week. "You seem nervous." "I almost – " She stopped, tried again. "I found this tied to my car door this afternoon." She pulled the blue blindfold half out of her purse, then stuffed it back in. "I don't know what I almost did. Almost screamed. Almost shit. Almost had a knee-buckling orgasm right there in the parking garage." They had reached Philip's car. He unlocked the front passenger door, reached in, and pulled out a helium balloon, silvery mylar with 'Surprise!' printed on it. "Hold out your hand." A big grin came over Kathleen's face, and she held out her right hand to take the balloon. There was a loop at the end of the string, and Philip slipped it over her hand and slipped it tight. Kathleen looked up at it. "You goof-ball! What's this for?" "Take off your glasses and squint at it." Philip reached into his pocket as he stepped behind her, pulled out the gold blindfold and flipped it over Kathleen's head and across her eyes. With the balloon and her purse in one hand and her glasses in the other, she was too startled to block it. "The balloon, my dear – " He settled the blindfold better across her eyes, crossed the ends, pulled them tight behind her head. " – is so that if we get stopped by some attentive police officer I have a likely story to tell about why I have a blindfolded woman in my car. It's a surprise. To you, at least." He knotted the ends and guided Kathleen into her seat in the car. She gathered the balloon and held it protectively in front of her. Philip closed the door and went around to his side, got in, and they drove off. "So where are you taking me?" "Telling you really would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?" "Well, yeah, I suppose. I really can't see anything through this." Kathleen felt the car come to a brief stop, then turn left. They had been parked facing south. And another left turn. Accelerating. The interstate? Must be. "Okay, so if I wasn't nervous before I sure am now." By feel, she folded her glasses and tucked them into her purse. "Good. You wanted a thrill. But how nervous should you be? Kris could testify that you were last seen with me, and Uncle Bill saw us leave together. I'd better be damned sure you get back to your bar stool all in one piece, not long after midnight." "I thought about some of that. Why does everybody call him Uncle Bill?" "I've heard him tell the story. Something to do with his nephew." Kathleen had lost track. They were still on the highway, but had they taken a ramp to another interstate or not? "Where – Okay, so you won't tell me. I'm just really nervous." "I can tell. Your chest is heaving. Looks good." "Keep your eyes on the road." A few minutes more and they were slowing down, rolling to a stop, then moving again. Kathleen paid attention to the feel and sound of the car's movement. Another stop, a turn, another turn, and a very slow turn into what Kathleen was sure was a parking space. Philip put the car in park, turned off the ignition, and got out. In a few seconds he was opening Kathleen's door, helping her get out of the car with the balloon, and guiding her a few steps. He halted. Kathleen heard a jangle, a click or snap, and then Philip said "Mind your step." She brushed past an obstruction on her left and felt carpet underfoot. A door closed behind her; locks snapped into place. Kathleen stood up straight, squared her shoulders, and tried calming herself. The air smelled of furniture polish. She felt somewhat foolish standing there, blindfolded and holding her purse and a helium balloon. The sudden feeling of warm breath on the back of her neck made her jump. "Jesus! Sorry. Can I take this off now?" She reached her free hand up toward the back of her head. "No." Philip caught hold of her hand, gently but firmly, turned it, and kissed the inside of her wrist, gently but firmly. "We can dispose of the balloon for now, though." He loosened the string, pulled it over her hand. She might have heard it bump against the ceiling. He took her purse; she heard it being set down on a hard surface. "Here." She felt him lean away from her, then there was a thump. "Have a seat." He turned her part way round and she felt a chair at the back of her legs. He held her right hand and she waved her left in the air behind her as she cautiously sat. She found the arms of the chair: coarse, nubbly upholstery on a solid, square piece of wood furniture. She adjusted her posture, sitting all the way back, putting her hands on the arms, crossing her legs at the ankles. There were a few seconds of silence, then she realized Philip must be behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders. "Relax." He began to knead her shoulders. She sighed. "Take a deep breath. Hold it for a couple seconds, then purse your lips and blow it out slowly. Empty your lungs." She did as he said. He spread his fingers and pushed squarely down on her shoulders for a count of twenty. She felt something inside let go. Tension fled her shoulders. She rolled her head from side to side. "Thank you! That feels so much better." Philip considered a variety of smart remarks, but passed up all of them. He put his hands on the sides of Kathleen's neck and began rubbing the nape with his thumbs. Kathleen was almost purring. He slid his hands forward, his thumbs tracing a line just under her jaw. He stroked under her chin. Then he tipped her head back and kissed her mouth hard, his tongue pushing deep past hers for a moment before he pulled off and pushed her head upright again. His hands were on her shoulders again. They plucked at the shoulders of her top. "A very becoming blouse." It was a shimmery red material that glinted in the light, scoop-neck, sleeveless, with buttons up the back. He ran his fingers a few inches forward and down from her shoulders. He could feel her bra straps through the material, and hear the change in her breathing as his fingers moved. He leaned down, kiss her on the right cheek – she turned partially to return the kiss – and then he ran his hands lightly down over her breasts. Even through the bra and blouse he could feel her nipples spring up to graze the palms of his hands. It was his turn to find his breathing had turned ragged. Bending over her from behind he cupped her breasts from below, lifted, and let them slide past. He resisted the urge to clench and grab but instead brought his hands back to her shoulders. He leaned over to her other side and kissed her left cheek. He straightened up and moved around to the front of the chair, took her hands, and helped her stand. In her heels she was nearly as tall as he was. He put his arms around her waist, she put her arms around his neck, and they kissed. They kissed and kissed again and kissed repeatedly. Philip's hands explored her back. Kathleen's hands pulled his face to hers. He ran both hands down past her waist. When he reached the lower curve of her ass he gave in to the urge to clench his fingers, taking great handfuls of her first with one hand then with the other. She responded with deep and desperate kisses. Wednesdays at the Venice Cafe Ch. 01 Philip pulled away far enough to touch Kathleen's face, his thumbs lightly caressing the blindfold. Kathleen felt his hands move lower, cradle her face for a moment, than drop to her shoulders. From each shoulder his fingers traced the neckline of her blouse until they met at her cleavage. Then he stepped away, moved behind her again, and began unbuttoning the three buttons at the back of her neck. Once they were undone, Philip folded the fabric back and kissed her on the spine at the base of her neck. Still behind her, he put his hands on her waist again, then found the side zipper of her skirt. He unbuttoned and unzipped and unhooked, then slid the skirt slowly down, not letting go of it, but dropping to his knees as the skirt dropped to her ankles. "I must say, I do like your style!" She was wearing stocking and a cream-colored garter belt. He indicated with a touch that she should lift her foot, then pulled the skirt past it when she did so. Then the other foot and the skirt was gone. Kathleen thought he may have draped it over the chair. Philip ran his hands over her stockings from calf to thigh, then took her ass cheeks in his hands and squeezed. He kissed her ass through her panties, kissed her thighs just above the tops of her stockings, touched each of the garters with the tips of his fingers. Then he stood, catching the hem of her blouse as he did so, and pulled it up. Kathleen raised her arms instinctively, and Philip peeled the top off over her head and threw it aside. He adjusted the blindfold to make certain it had not been dislodged. Then he held her at arm's length and marveled at his prize: great, round breasts in seamless, red demi-cups; an abdomen flat enough that pelvic bones stood at points on either side; creamy garter belt framing a creamy triangle of silk, both setting off the white of her thighs and the promising shadows at their juncture. Philip was beginning to have difficulty showing restraint. He put his hands on Kathleen's shoulders again, slipped her bra straps to the edges of her shoulders, and let them drop; he ran the tips of his fingers lightly down her breasts until they reached the top edge of her bra. Then he slipped his fingers behind the cloth and jerked downwards suddenly, peeling the bra away and fully revealing her white breasts and her large, pale, pink nipples. Kathleen was startled, but steeled herself for whatever Philip might do next. What he did was to take her left breast in both his hands and lean down to suckle. His lips closed around her nipple, his tongue flicked across it, and his teeth caught at it. Already enlarged, the nipple responded by hardening even further. He kissed and sucked some more, then turned his attention to her right breast. He circled the nipple with his tongue several times before closing his lips around it. He kept one hand on her left breast while he teased the right, the nipple trapped between his first and second fingers. She could feel the cloth of his shirt sleeve against her bare skin. When the right nipple seemed to Philip to be as hard as the left, he stood up watched Kathleen's face as he kneaded both her breasts, tweaking and twisting her nipples. He ran his hands along the bra that still bounded crease at the bottom of her breasts. Kathleen sensed she was being watched; she licked her lips and leaned forward the barest inch, hoping for a kiss. Philip put one finger up to her lips to caution her, but she only began kissing it hungrily. Her mouth sought out the rest of his hand, and he was amused when she began kissing and sucking on his fingers. "Enough." He stepped away. Kathleen was left standing in what was, to her, darkness, in a room of unknown size or content, with nothing touching her but the air on her skin and the carpet beneath her stockinged feet. She listened. She recognized the soft sound of a zipper, the rustling of cloth, muffled pocket change. Then Philip had hold of her upper arms and was pushing her back. She stepped fearfully back, hoping not to trip. At her second step the backs of her legs met fabric, padding, something. "Sit." She put out her hands to either side and lowered herself. A bed, covered in a quilt. She let herself relax, her hands palms down on the quilt on either side of her. Now Philip's hands were on her head, his fingers entwining themselves in her hair. He pulled her head forward and down. Her face met his belly, the tip of his cock brushed her chin. He pulled her head again, but he needn't have: her mouth was seeking out his cock as eagerly as it had done his fingers. She found it and sank her mouth onto it. She brought her hands up suddenly, lest Philip forbid it, and grabbed at his ass, pulling him to her. She licked and sucked as if she had been starved for cock. She leaned into him, bobbing her head rapidly. She squeezed the clenched cheeks of his ass alternately, then ran one hand up his bare back, then down the back of one thigh, and finally brought both her hands to the front, where they cradled his balls as she continued sucking. Philip kept hold of her hair, but gave her free rein to move as she wished. The sight of her, blindfolded and giving head, was at least as exciting as the feel of her lips and tongue and teeth. Kathleen shifted her weight, then slid forward and off the edge of the bed, dropping to her knees. She had found sitting on the bed put her at an awkward height, and she wanted no hindrances. With one hand she reached between his legs, behind his scrotum, to the root of his cock, and applied pressure. With the other she pulled his cock down and, starting at the tip, she slowly began to swallow it. When she felt her throat try to constrict, she paused, flattened her tongue against the front of her throat as if her doctor was peering down it, and then firmly pulled Philip to her until his cock was deep in her throat and her nose was tight against his pubic bone. Philip hissed and moaned. Kathleen held him there for several seconds, not letting him move but rubbing and squeezing his balls. She pulled off him slowly, inch by inch, until she could take a single breath, then she lunged back onto him, swallowing his full length in a single stroke. She could not hold him there for more than a second before pulling off and gasping for air. "You don't want to get carried away with that. We'll never make it back in time if you have to start over." Philip took her hands, tugged her up to standing, then pushed her back onto the bed again. She sat down hard, still trying to catch her breath. Philip knelt low and forced his hands between her legs, his forearms behind her calves, and stood, tipping her onto her back. Kathleen had not really considered his weight until now, when he bore her backwards, forcing her legs up and her knees toward her chest. "Grab your knees." She did as she was told. Philip slid his hands along her stockings from the backs of her knees to her garters. With one hand on each thigh, his thumbs just at the edge of her panties, he bent over her. Kathleen felt his warm breath on her vulva. He kissed her through the sheer fabric. He kissed the bare skin not covered by her stockings. He laid a trail of kisses from one side to the other, then returned to the center where he again kissed her outer lips as they pressed against her panties. The fabric was already moist and musky. He moved upward and kissed where her clitoris must be hidden behind the silk. He considered, briefly, the task of unfastening her garters in order to remove her panties. He decided not to bother. He gathered the fabric with the fingers of his right hand, pulled it to the side, and gazed at her glistening sex. He kissed it once, gently, before attacking it with his tongue. Philip began low and ran his tongue up the hollow between Kathleen's vulva and her right thigh. He slowed as he came alongside her clitoris, and was careful to stay on the outside of the hood as he crossed over to her left side. He moistened his tongue and licked down the outer side of her left labia until he had returned to his point of beginning, whereupon he retraced his path counterclockwise, again being careful not to stimulate her clitoris directly. Then he reached as low as he could, nearly to her asshole, and danced his tongue slowly upwards and from side to side, touching the tops of her inner and outer lips until he had arrived just below her clit. Now he paused, wrapped his arms around her thighs from below, moistened his tongue again, and gently lapped at Kathleen's clit. She shuddered, and he retreated to a spot well below her vagina. His tongue pushed hard between her inner lips and he made a great licking motion, his tongue diving into her cunt as he passed it then sliding out on his way back up to her clit. He dove back down and repeated this long march from asshole to nubbin, beginning with a moistening of his tongue and ending with a flick of her clit. Again and again, with increasing speed, he licked her slit. As she become more voluble in her response, he shortened his stroke, now beginning each with a quick plunge of his tongue into her cunt, followed by a rapid slurp of the intervening inch to her swollen clit. Kathleen, on her back with her feet in the air, let gravity pull her knees apart, whatever the cost to her hips. Philip's face-fucking finally overcame her, and she cried out, reached for him, bucked her hips up and kicked her legs out straight, all in one convulsive orgasm. Philip held on, buried his tongue as deeply into her vagina as he could, his nose mashed against her clitoris. Kathleen tried pulling her feet back onto the bed. She managed to get her right heel up onto the edge of the mattress, then decided just to wrap her left leg around Philip and pin him where he was until she could stop shuddering. It took a minute. Philip began extricating himself. He rubbed the insides of her thighs, stood up, and looked down at Kathleen. One of her garters had come undone. Her panties were soaked. She put her arms up over her head, turned her head to one side, twisted her body in the other direction, moaned, and stretched. Her great breasts spread out to the sides as she lay on her back. Philip's erection had never gone away, but the sight of her like that renewed his vitality. "Sit up." She struggled to do so, and he took her hands to help. As soon as she could she reached for him, began trying to suck his cock again. For a minute, he let her. "Now stand." He pulled her upright, stepped to one side, put a hand on the small of her back and guided her forward. "There." She was exploring the air in front of her with her hands. "Reach down." Ah, the chair again. She was behind it, and started to edge around. "No, stand there. Bend over, put your hands on the arms of the chair." As she did, Philip stepped up behind her, grasped her panties, and pulled them to the side again. Bending his knees and thrusting his pelvis forward, he guided his cock toward her cleft. Kathleen reached back between her legs to help, and gave a small, happy sound as he slid into her well-lubricated cunt. Philip had meant to take a long, lazy time at it, but it was no use. His first half dozen strokes were long and slow, as he pulled down and back until the tip of his cock was all that was left inside Kathleen, then slowly buried himself inside her again. He had his hands on her hips, then on her back, then reached around to fondle her breasts as they hung in the air. He brought his hands back to her hips, grasping her pelvic bones as if they were jug handles, and thrusting into her hard, his pubis slapping into her ass. He wanted nothing more than that, again and again, and so he pounded faster and faster, until he found himself panting and grunting with each thrust. Kathleen found his lust, his desperation for release, to be contagious. They built to a climax together, Philip finally grinding himself into her, trying to thrust even deeper, and saying "Oh! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He knew from Kathleen's breathing that she had reached her peak. He curled over her, making contact with her back from his abs to his chest. He kissed her between the shoulder blades. He rubbed his hands in circles on her back. He gathered her hair, lifted, and blew on the back of her neck. He ran his hands down past her hips and over the outsides of her thighs. He was shrinking. Kathleen adjusted her stance, he adjusted his, and he slid out. Her panties half returned to their intended position, but not before she dripped onto the carpet. "May I sit down?" "But of course, my dear." Kathleen awkwardly turned the chair about, sank into it. "What time is it?" "Mmmm. Eleven thirty five. We shouldn't dawdle." He was already getting himself dressed. "Stand up, please." He stood in front of Kathleen and straightened her bra, tugging the cups into position and sliding the straps back up over her shoulders. While she adjusted and readjusted herself inside the bra, he produced her blouse from where ever it had been and helped her pull it over her head. He fastened the buttons. Then he was kneeling by her, helping her step into her skirt, which he then pulled up. "I can get this in the dark." She hooked and zipped and buttoned. "Here are your shoes." "You're not going to let me take this off, are you?" "Not yet. Here's your purse. And your balloon." After another moment or two he said "I think we're ready." Kathleen heard the door open, felt cool air. "OK. Here's my hand." He led her out, unlocked her car door, made sure she didn't bump her head getting in, closed her door after her. Then a moment later there was a creak and a bump, and she felt as well as heard the car trunk slam shut. Philip opened his door and said "I just have to drop off the key." It seemed to Kathleen a very long time, sitting there blindfolded, but it was really barely two minutes before Philip was back. He started the car, backed out of the space, and pulled forward. Kathleen had been trying to think what to say to him on the drive back. She couldn't think of much. "That was a motel, wasn't it." "Yes, of course." "Why wouldn't you let me see it?" "You said you didn't want to. You didn't want to see anything, least of all yourself." "Well. Yes. Maybe next time I'll have the guts to watch. If there is a next time." "We don't have to decide that tonight." "No, I suppose we don't. Of course we don't. And if we did, we could always change our minds. In either direction." "Exactly so." "I think I may be leaving a wet spot on your upholstery." Philip laughed. "I shall cherish it always!" "Crap, I hope not. How can I go back in the bar with a big cum stain on my skirt?" "I'll check. If it looks bad we can stand around outside where the light isn't good enough to show anything." Another two minutes and Philip was parking at the curb. He reached over, pulled the blindfold up and over Kathleen's head. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. He kissed her. They got out of the car, Philip checked her skirt and they walked back up the block to the Venice. Bill waved them in without paying the cover charge again. The crowd had thinned, but their table was occupied. They took two stools at the bar and ordered drinks. It was twelve fifteen. Kris turned up at quarter to one. * * * On Friday of that week, Philip dropped in on the IT department. He asked the director how they were settling in to the new space. Made sure there weren't any problems. Wandered around and looked at doors and woodwork and furniture with an expert eye. When he got the chance, he stopped to see Kathleen in her cubicle. She looked a little nervous. He assured her "Just checking in. I want happy clients to vouch for me at my next performance review." As he left her cubicle, he wordlessly handed her a DVD in a plastic sleeve. On it he had printed by hand "Not Safe For Work" and, in smaller letters, "Not Safe for Home Either." Kathleen put it in her pocket. Wednesdays at the Venice Cafe Ch. 02 Chapter Two: Office Visit What with one thing and another, Philip didn't get out of the house until late. He didn't really intend to run late, but he didn't make any special effort to get moving, either. It was after ten o'clock when he handed Uncle Bill the five dollar cover charge and made his way towards the bar. There was Kathleen, at her usual table. No sign of Kris except an empty wine glass. Philip pulled up a stool. Kathleen watched the band and ignored him until the song ended. Then she turned to him and said "You asshole. You fucking asshole." She looked back toward the stage. Philip raised one eyebrow and smiled sadly. "Not pleased? I thought you might be, ehh, titillated." "You didn't ask me if you could bring a camera." The band began playing something Philip didn't recognize. He leaned towards Kathleen to be heard over the music. "I didn't ask you if I could anything. From the time I put the blindfold on you till the time I took it off you, I didn't ask your permission for anything. And you didn't object to anything." "But I didn't know you were making a fucking porn video out of it!" "'Fucking porn video' is redundant. And you didn't know what I was doing or going to do from one moment to the next. And you loved every bit of it, didn't you?" He leaned in even closer. "Even the video. Didn't you?" Kathleen sat still a moment, then began to squirm slightly. "I would have told you 'no' if you'd asked." "That's why I didn't ask. You said you didn't want to see yourself as a cheating slut, so I brought a blindfold. And now I've let you see what a cheating slut really looks like, and you think she looks sexy as hell." Kathleen shifted on her stool again. "Okay, so I did like being able to see your cock. I didn't get to do that last week. But as soon as I loaded that disc and saw the vid I feel like you were blackmailing me! It's threatening!" Philip shook his head. "I'm on that video, too, as clearly as you are." "You could edit yourself out." "Right. And I just gave you a copy of the whole, unedited thing. You could edit yourself out, too, probably easier than I could. Video editing software is a royal pain in the ass, as far as I've ever tried using it. But the point is, I gave you the video. I gave you the same leverage over me that I have over you. I'm trusting you not to use it. So you can trust me not to. " Kathleen looked at Philip, really looked at him, for the first time tonight. "Yeah. Okay. I guess you did. But for fuck's sake, you do know how to encrypt a file, don't you? I don't want anybody stumbling across it by accident!" "Eh, well, my disc is passworded, but I don't know about encryption." "Yeah, I'm surprised you even have it passworded. The disc you gave me wasn't. I copied and encrypted the file and snapped the DVD in half before trashing it. I don't want my husband snooping around and finding it." "Does he snoop? My wife doesn't. Or if she does, she's so good at it she's never left a clue. And never gotten mad about what she found. Which implies to me she's never found anything. Which implies she's never looked." "He doesn't look at my work stuff. But who knows? I'm gonna have to teach you your shit when it comes to data security." "That's what we have an IT department for." "Very funny." "Would you like a refill? I need to get myself a drink." Kathleen handed him her own glass and Kris's empty. He stepped back to the bar, got a bourbon and water for himself, and a refill on the vodka tonic for Kathleen. "Here you go." He set the drinks down, along with a couple of bar naps. "Okay, I'm not completely and totally pissed at you any more. I'll tell the goons not to bust your kneecaps after all." "Mighty sportin' of you. I hadn't thought about goons. I figured you were going to get me in a defenseless position and remove my balls with your teeth." "That's Plan B." "Hmmm. Well, I'm all for the defenseless position part, at any rate." She looked sidelong at him. "You got another sleezebag motel lined up? Where the fuck were we, anyway?" "Washington Park. No, I don't have a reservation this week, but I can't imagine they fill up on a Wednesday. Or we might try something different. You suggest something." Kathleen drummed her fingers for a few seconds, then said "Look, I don't want to make this too complicated, but, well, how much do you know about security around my building?" "What? Around your building?" "Yeah. I have my swipe card with me. It'll get me into my office any time of day or night. In case I need to work late." "Well, I know the system records whose card gets used at which doors and when." "Right, I know all about the system. I want to know about cameras. I mean, since you're an expert on cameras and all." "Too-shay, Toots. Cameras are at every building entrance, and some lobbies and corridors, but nothing on your floor. It wasn't part of the plans for the renovation, and unless somebody's come through and installed them since without telling me, you should be clean." "Okay, the two of us seen going into a building isn't any big deal since it's my office and I've got clearance. I just didn't want to find out that somebody has a camera rigged up to watch what happens in my cubicle." "Mostly they don't review the video unless something is reported. Recorded, saved, overwritten. And, um, what happens in your cubicle?" Kathleen took hold of his sleeve and tugged. "You're gonna find out." They walked down the block towards Philip's car. He hung back a step to watch her walk. She wore what he would have called a peasant blouse, lots of fabric managing to show lots of skin, a long broomstick skirt, and flats. He didn't suggest a blindfold for Kathleen this time, though he did have one in his pocket, just in case. They got in, and Philip drove. Once they were off the side streets, Philip put his right hand on Kathleen's thigh and petted it. The long, loose skirt in a green pattern slid easily over her skin. Touching her strengthened Philip's resolve. He'd had little problem last week, headed to a no-tell motel where no one could possibly know him. But now he was driving to work, essentially, and if the route was different the destination was the same. Hundreds of people knew him there, even if they were all at home now, parked in front of their televisions. And people did work late. And there were cleaning crews. He stroked Kathleen's thigh again, as if for luck. He turned into the drive, then took the first left into the parking garage. Unlike Kathleen, his spot was on the lowest level. They saw four or five other cars scattered along the route. Force of habit navigated Philip to his assigned space. They got out of the car wordlessly. Their feet scuffing up the concrete stairs seemed to make far more noise than they should. Out on the sidewalk, Philip almost took Kathleen's arm before restraining himself. It wouldn't draw a second look in Soulard, but it might bring disaster here. Kathleen led the way. She had her card out of her purse even before they got to the door. She swiped it, the light turned, green, and she pulled the door open. They hurried in and over to the stairs. Up two flights and down the hall. At the door to the main office Kathleen swiped again and they were in. "Welcome to the cube farm." Except for the department head's private office and a conference room, the place was entirely ranks of cubicles, efficient steel frames covered in corporate gray fabric. Even the reception desk was a cubicle with low sides. A very few of the overhead lights were always on as a safety measure; Kathleen did not reach for the switches but took Philip's hand and lead him rapidly down the row to her eight foot by eight foot domain. Inside the cubicle, she switched on the desk lamp then spun around to face him and threw her arms around his neck. She kissed him, a big and hard and sloppy, wet kiss. Her breasts pressed against his chest. He put his hands on her hips, kissing her back, moving his body slightly to some music he couldn't quite hear, and enjoying the feel of his body brushing against hers. Without stopping kissing, she put her right hand on his chest and let it wander until she could feel his left nipple through his shirt. Her own nipples hardened. Philip's hand was on her ass, circling and squeezing. Her breathing became ragged. "I need this." She let go of him, bent to grab the hem of her skirt, and reached up and under to snag the waistband of her panties. She peeled them down, stepped out of them, and stuffed them in her purse. Then she hiked her skirt again and plopped herself down in her swivel chair, slumped, with her knees wide apart. Philip knelt in front of her. He kissed the inside of each thigh once, then adjusted his posture to put his face right up tight to her pussy. He kissed her twice, then began licking gently. The chair rolled back against her desk and stopped there. Philip adjusted. Kathleen tipped her head back. "Oh, yeah, that's what I missed. Oh. Mmmm. Oh, yeah." Philip was working from one side of her vulva to the other, not yet centering on her clit. She gripped the arms of the chair. "Ahhh, yes. Didn't we used to say 'Save a tree, eat a beaver' in high school? That's-- ah! Yeah, like that!" Philip had parted her lips and was now tongue stroking the inner labia. Kathleen hummed and purred and encouraged him, some part of her mind aware of how often she sat in this same chair and dreamed of being serviced. Her thoughts had her primed and ready; as soon as Philip moved upward and began licking her clit directly she gave a little squeal, and with his next stroke a louder one, and in half a dozen flicks of his tongue she was over the top, crying out in spasms of pleasure. Philip pressed his tongue flat against her clit and held it there firmly, not moving, until he could tell her breathing was evening out again. He stroked the insides of her thighs with both hands without moving his mouth away. Kathleen loosened her grip on the arms of the chair and began running her fingers through Philip's hair. His thumbs massaged her outer lips for a bit, then he carefully pulled his mouth away, exposing her swollen clit to the air. He breathed on it, warm and gentle, and she whimpered. His fingers and the palms of his hands still on her inner thighs, his thumbs became more assertive in rubbing her labia. He had left her quite wet, and his thumbs slid between inner and outer lips, up and down, spreading and closing and kneading and spreading again. At the slightest pressure of Kathleen's hands against the back of his head, he leaned back in and applied his tongue to her clitoris again. Slow and steady pressure, rhythmically applied. His thumbs kept time with his tongue, rubbing now between her inner lips. After a dozen strokes, he pressed the backs of his thumbs together and began to press the pair into her vagina. With each passage of his tongue across her clit, his thumbs probed a fraction of an inch deeper. Kathleen was lost in the sensations. Finally Philip's thumbs were sliding in and out as deeply as they were able, and providing Kathleen even greater stimulation than his tongue did. She felt the pressure rising, and began muttering "Oh, yeah, oh, yeah, oh, yeah," in cadence with his probing. Something about the very act of vocalizing made her building excitement even more real, as if it validated it, and she got louder and more insistent and they got faster together until she finally lifted her ass up off the seat, calling out "Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck! Oh, yes. Yes. Yes." She sank back down. Philip buried his thumbs up to the second knuckle and held them there, and came up for air. "Oh. Oh, be gentle, but I need you to move, yeah, just slowly -- Oh!" Philip slid his thumbs out her pussy, kissed it once, and tried to stand up. His position on the floor between her legs had not been kind to his joints and muscles. He laughed shakily as he stood. Kathleen, still slumped in her chair, looked up at him with a smile that he could only describe as sly. "You're pretty good at that. Maybe a little old to be a boy-toy, but you do have the talent." She grunted slightly as she pulled herself to sitting upright. "Now. Your turn." She reached out and hooked his belt with one hand, and reached for his zipper with the other. She rolled her chair forward. Philip put his hands on his hips and waited as Kathleen unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, and peeled his trousers back. She reached in through the placket of his boxers and pulled out his cock, pushing the cloth down to expose the full length of it. It was the first time she had actually seen it, she realized, and it was an angry red color with a velvet tip shading into something closer to purple. She sank her mouth over it and sucked hard, then pulled it out with a pop. Philip moaned. She engulfed it with her mouth again, this time bobbing up and down a few inches before pulling away with another pop. A third time she attacked it, this time providing little suction but holding her teeth just the right distance apart that they grazed the edges of the cockhead. Philip closed his eyes and tipped his head back. He was unaccustomed to such enthusiastic oral. Kathleen stopped teasing the tip and slowly worked her way down the length of the shaft. Halfway down she paused, flattened her tongue against her throat, gathered herself for the plunge, and rapidly sank her mouth all the way down to the root of Philip's cock. She held that pose for several seconds, giving Philip time to savor the sensation, before sliding the rod back out of her throat. She took a moment to catch up with her breathing before repeating the deep-throat dive. This time she began squeezing Philip's balls while she had his cock fully enveloped. Philip put his hands on the back of her head and began rocking his hips, but she needed to come up for air. She pulled off him and sat back in her chair, looked up at him, and asked "You like?" "Oh, fuck yeah." Philip could manage only a throaty whisper. "Good. Now, pull up a chair." She pointed at the guest chair next to her desk. Philip did as he was told, picked up the chair and moved it to the center of the cubicle. Kathleen tugged at his trousers and boxers, but Philip had to do most of the work of pulling them down around his ankles. "Now sit." The guest seat had the same upholstery as Kathleen's swivel chair, but was a simple side chair without arms or casters. Philip sat, and Kathleen stood up. Once again she gathered her long skirt up around her waist, and now stepped forward and straddled Philip. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned into him, putting her breasts in his face, then she sat on his lap. She could feel his cock trapped against her pussy. She wiggled from side to side. Philip reached for the neckline of her blouse and pulled at it, partially exposing her right breast. She reached behind and under her blouse, and unhooked her bra, them let the blouse slide off her shoulders and down her arms. She pulled her arms out of both blouse and bra straps, and sat there with her skirt pulled up and her blouse pulled down, both bunched at her waist. She put her hands behinds Philip's neck and leaned back to offer him the best possible view. He cupped her breasts and lifted them towards his mouth. As he sucked at her nipples she shifted her weight from side to side, feeling his cock roll under her. "You missed your calling. You make an excellent lap dancer." "You think?" She rocked back and forth a bit. "But now it's time to give you one of those special, private dances." She put her feet on the floor and stood up a few inches, and Philip put one hand under her ass and used the other to guide his cock towards her pussy. She lowered herself onto him, his cock sliding in between her lips and on into her cunt. When she had bottomed out she leaned into him again, kissing the side of his neck. "Oh, this is perfect. Damn, I don't need a blindfold to enjoy this. Mmmmm." She rocked her hips backwards and forwards for a while, then lifted her feet up off the floor so all her weight was on him and wiggled from side to side again. Philip kept both hands on her ass, squeezing the cheeks together then pulling them apart, kneading them, then rubbing, then spreading them again. Kathleen got her feet under her, put her hands on top of her thighs, and began to lift and lower herself up and down the length of Philip's cock. She slowed at the top of each upstroke, carefully gauging how close the tip of his cock was to slipping out entirely, then dropping herself down onto his lap again with all her weight. After half a dozen such long lazy strokes, Philip moved his right hand back to her breasts, and reached with his left hand to stroke the cleft between her ass cheeks as she lifted, then letting her slide away from his hand on the downstroke. As Kathleen lifted herself up, Philip's fingers delved between the soft mounds. Meeting no objection from Kathleen, he pushed harder and deeper until by the third stroke he could feel the tight pucker of her asshole under his fingers. Now he persisted, letting her trap his hand between her cheeks when she settled onto him, and massaging her asshole with one fingertip when she rose. They were both breathing hard, neither speaking, looks of strained concentration on both faces. Kathleen was no longer pausing at the top of each stroke, and was moving faster. Philip could only let her set the pace. She was working hard and fast now, and Philip kept rimming her asshole. Then she grimaced, put her hands on Philips shoulders and began pounding harder than ever. Philip pushed the tip of his finger into her ass as far as the first knuckle, and Kathleen's eyes and mouth both shot open and she cried out, and managed another half dozen short, very hard strokes before collapsing onto Philip. She whimpered. Philip withdrew his finger, and she whimpered again. She rubbed her face against his shoulder. Then she sat up and looked at him. "Did you cum?" "Oh, yeah! I think you were too busy to notice. I was trying to outlast you, but then watching your face when you came put me over the top." "Oh, good. I don't think I could take any more right now." She put her head back down on his shoulder for a moment, then sat back up. "You are a nasty, filthy man!" Then she kissed his cheek and put her head back down. "Why, thank you! It's one of my goals in life." She giggled a little. "What time is it?" "Almost midnight." "Oh, shit. We need to make tracks. I don't wanna, but I gotta." Kathleen stood up and Philip, already shrinking, slid out of her. They reassembled themselves, and Philip moved the chair back beside the desk. Kathleen leaned over to look. "Big wet spot? Oh, yeah! I'll have to tell housekeeping somebody spilled something." Philip zipped his trousers and buckled his belt. "I'll need to hit the men's room on my way out." "Right across the hall. Don't forget to wash your hands!" Kathleen looked around the cubicle to make sure everything was in its place and nothing was left behind. Her panties were still in her purse, but she left them there as a mark of defiance. Then she went out to the hall and into the women's restroom. She came out the just as Philip did. They walked out of the building and over to the garage side by side, carefully not touching. It was a quarter to one when they got back to the Venice Cafe. Kris was already there, waiting for them. Wednesdays at the Venice Cafe Ch. 03 Chapter Three: Lunch Thursday When Kathleen and Philip had gotten back to the Venice Café that night, Kris didn't say anything to either of them, just made room at the table and turned her attention back to the band. No questions, no accusations. Philip wondered if Kathleen would get those later, in the car. Kathleen wondered much the same thing – not that Kris had any stones to throw, but Kathleen hadn't confided in her. The singer announced last call and swung into the last song. Philip bought a round for the three of them. By one twenty the glasses were empty again, and the band packed up. Kris led Kathleen back to her car, and Philip headed for his. The next morning Kathleen sat in her office cubicle but couldn't keep her mind on her work. She repeatedly ran through the utterly inconclusive talk she'd had with Kris in the car. She looked from time to time at the faint, white-rimmed stain on the side chair next to her desk. She crossed and uncrossed and recrossed her legs. Shortly before eleven she dialed Philip's extension. "It's me. Can you meet me for lunch?" "I could, sure. Is there a problem?" "No. It's all cool. I just, well, I was just feeling a need." "Oh, well, I'd be happy to see what I can do for you." "But I've only got an hour. I can't really stretch it." "That makes it tough. Not many suitable venues within ten minutes of here." "You're Mister Buildings and Grounds. You'll think of something." "Oh, sure. Well. Something. I'll give you a call just before noon and tell you where to meet me." "Cool." Kathleen hung up. She knew he couldn't afford to do anything that cost him his job, any more than she could. But she was pretty sure he didn't want to pass up an opportunity. At ten till twelve her phone rang; Philip told her that when she left for lunch she should take the stairs instead of the elevator. No problem. She often did. Ten minutes later she headed down the hall and while others were shuffling into the elevator she went to the stair door and pushed through. As the door closed behind her she found Philip on the stair landing with a clip board, a flashlight, and a big ring of keys. "Wow. You look official. Where to?" She started down the stairs. "Nope, not down. Up." He pointed with his flashlight. Kathleen raised an eyebrow. "Really?" Most of the offices on the fourth and fifth floors were major honchos. Philip just smiled and waved her up. Kathleen was accustomed to men letting her take the lead up a flight of steps. At the fourth floor she stopped and turned, pointed at the door questioningly. Philip shook his head. "Nope. Up." She began climbing the next flight. Philip followed close behind and caressed her ass through her skirt. She responded by exaggerating the roll of her hips. At the fifth floor she hesitated before even reaching for the door – it led to the hall of executive offices. Philip stepped up and said. "Not that door, this one." She hadn't even looked at the steel blank steel door to her left. Philip had one key on the ring already singled out, and used it to unlock the door with the small rectangular sign reading "Roof." Kathleen's face brightened and she looked at him with new-found respect. He just flipped on the light and shooed her through the door and up the last flight of stairs, closing the door gently behind them. She waited at the top. "Go ahead and open it. It doesn't lock from this side." She pushed through and was greeted by sunlight and a fresh breeze. Philip stopped halfway through the door to make sure his key would let them back in to the stairway. Out on the roof Kathleen felt the breeze and looked around. There was a variety of mechanical equipment arrayed across the roof, with fans and grilles and pipes and valves in no order she could discern, and behind her the penthouse that contained the elevator equipment and the stair they'd just climbed. The roof itself was covered in gravel, with pathways from the stair to the equipment marked out by rectangular rubber walking mats. "Stay on the walkways. Don't want those stilettos of yours punching a hole in the roof membrane. There, around that way." Philip indicated the path the led around the far side of the elevator penthouse. She followed it, and once around the corner it led straight to the parapet at the north side of the building. The wind picked up as they approached. "Wow! Great view! And, um..." She turned in a circle. "...no other buildings really tall enough and close enough to see us. I'm impressed." She stepped up to the parapet and put her hands on it, but it was too tall for her to lean over the top and straight down, so she gazed out over the trees and rooftops spread out to the north. "Be careful you don't brush you jacket against the wall. Everything up here is pretty dirty." He reached under the lower edge of her jacket, then slid his hands around her and cupped her breasts. "Even me." "Especially you! What am I supposed to do, just stand here while you paw me?" "it sounds like a good plan to me." He moved his hands in circles, trying to feel her nipples through the cloth as they hardened. "I don't have access to too many places with a mattress. And every place I could think of with a couch or a bench or something was pretty public. So here we are, out in the open but not really visible." He pulled her back against him, then ran one hand down to the waist of her skirt and began probing. "So you can get out on the roof of all the buildings?" "I have the keys, yeah. You thinking of making the circuit?" "Oooo! There's a goal! But let's see how this works out, first." "Some of the other rooftops are visible from the upper stories of this one. Might not be a good career move. And none of them measure up to a cheap hotel in terms of comfort and cleanliness." Kathleen looked at the palms of her hands. "Shit, you're right, my hands are grimy already. You're going to have to hike my skirt up for me." She spent a small fortune on dry-cleaning as it was. "I'll be delighted to do so. But first—" He stepped back from her and unzipped his fly. "I could use a little lubrication." Well, of course. She started to kneel, thought better of it, and just squatted and began sucking his cock. It was half hard when she started, and fully hard within seconds, which was good because this was too awkward a position to maintain for long. She pulled off and stood, and stroked his cock while she kissed his lips. "OK, lubed enough for now. I really need it." She turned back to the parapet and leaned against it with her hands, her ass thrust back and her feet spread wide. Philip had liked this position well enough last week, she was sure he wouldn't mind a repeat. He bent down and took the hem of her skirt and lifted. It was a nice, tight pencil skirt, which looked great but was never intended for quick access. He scooted it up around her waist and held it there with one hand while he unbuckled his belt with the other. Kathleen could feel the air on her ass. When she dressed that morning she had no conscious intention of meeting Philip, but the long skirt had let her wear knee-highs instead of pantyhose. Philip let his trousers drop around his ankles, pulled his boxers down, then gathered the thin nylon of Kathleen's panties and pulled it to one side. Kathleen felt the tip of his cock push toward her ass and then slide down the crevice towards her pussy. She took one hand off the parapet and reached down to guide his cock home. He bent at the knees to improve his angle, then once he felt the welcoming warmth of her cunt, he buried his cock in her, hard. Kathleen gasped and braced herself against the parapet again. The sensations of sex filled her, driving out everything else. The breeze, the sunlight, everything faded into the background. Only the heat and pull and pressure at her groin mattered. Philip's hands gripping her hips mattered but her own hands against the rough masonry did not. The spread of her legs and the angle of her pelvis mattered but the strain on her ankles and knees did not. The rhythm of Philip's pounding mattered but the rhythm of her own breathing did not. The growing tension, the flutter and thrill, the raw desire for release building inside her mattered and nothing else mattered or even existed now. She began to give a low moan with each stroke that brought her closer to climax, each stroke that heightened her tension but failed to push her over the top. The slapping of Philip's pubes into Kathleen's ass became faster and fiercer and Kathleen's moans became squeals, gasps, shouts, until at last her entire body was racked by spasms and she was reduced to hissing as each of Philip's thrusts coaxed another ripple of orgasm out of her. She was aware that Philip had slowed and stopped, and felt his hands on her shoulders now. Gradually her ankles made their unhappiness known, and she changed her stance slightly. Her heels weren't really stilettos, but they weren't designed for stand-up fucking, either. Philip rubbed her back through jacket and blouse. She tried straightening her back a bit, and the changed angle of her pelvis caused Philip's cock to slip out of her. They both whimpered a bit at the loss. Kathleen stood up straight and tipped her head back, her face to the sky. "Oh, fuck." Her skirt had dropped back into position, but her panties were still in disarray. She turned and watched Philip pull his pants back up, tuck in his shirt, and rebuckle his belt. He looked at her, smiled, asked "Feeling better?" He picked up his clip board and flashlight. "Yeah. It'll do for now. Oh, yeah." She hadn't brought her purse away with her and now wished she had. She could feel a dribble starting down the inside of her leg, but decided against asking Philip for his handkerchief. "I need to get to the ladies' room and get myself put back together. I guess we don't really have time for cuddling, anyway." "But time enough for a kiss?" He put his free hand on the back of her neck and pulled her to him, kissing her hard. Then he led the way back across the roof to the stairs. Kathleen found going down the stairs far harder than climbing them had been twenty minutes earlier. When they got to her floor she gave Philip another kiss. "See you next Wednesday night?" "If you can hold out that long." Then she headed through the door and down the hall towards the women's room, leaving him to take the stairs the rest of the way down.