1 comments/ 3393 views/ 4 favorites The Stanger By: n_pearl_84 Not again, I thought when I walked in the room. I knew Peter and Sabrina were crazy about each other, but this was crossing the line. "Hey, you two. Mind clearing out? The new boss'll be here this afternoon," I said. Peter, chagrinned, pulled away from the figure pushed up against the wall. We kept things informal at Beachside Inc., but this was the third time in a month I had caught them in the act. "Sorry, Stacey," said Sabrina, coming up for air. She had a smudge where her lipstick had been smeared, courtesy of the deep kisses Peter had been lavishing on her. Interns, I muttered to myself. The truth was, I didn't mind a little necking in the office myself, not that it had happened to me in ages. Secretly it gave me a thrill every time I saw them together like that. Peter was a gorgeous young man, typical of the type we employed at our real estate office over the summer. His long blonde hair and dark shadowed gray eyes were a hit with the single women looking for their little condos. The four years he spent on the local high school football team meant he was in fabulous shape. Both him and Stacey had graduated that summer and found work together before they left for college. Stacey was his high school sweetheart; a typical cheerleader with breasts larger than her brain. She had raven-dark hair, curtsy of her beautician, and legs that went to her head. When the potential client was a single male, or even a married couple, we always sent her along to help make the pitch. And make sales they did. Our old boss, James, had benefited enough from their help over the last few months that he decided to sell the business while it was hot and retire to Florida; which was why we were expecting the new 'James' to arrive any time. "Just don't let me catch you again. James was forgiving but it's hard telling what the new boss will say. Got it?" "Sure, thing," said Peter. He gave me a sloppy puppy-dog grin and smacked Sabrina on the ass. She yelped and I felt a small tingle go down my spine. Wish he would spank me, I thought and had to keep from biting my lip. It had been far too long. Instead, I shook my head. The short bob I had gotten when the summer started had been growing out and my bangs swung in my face. I blew them back, the red tresses sticking slightly to the dampness on my forehead. Who the new boss was remained a mystery. Obviously he was rich; Beachside Inc. employed nine realtors, several secretaries, and a team of seven interns during the summer months. We served the Northside of Chicago and had the entire third floor of an office building overlooking Fisherman's Wharf with a net worth in the millions. I was surprised when James did sell, he had built Beachside from the ground up. But I guess he had an offer he couldn't refuse. "Did you at least set up the presentation?" I asked. "Got it finished an hour ago," said Sabrina. Besides being a ditz, she was mildly competent when it came to technology, a gift of the generation she had been raised in. "Then why are you still here?" "Peter came in and distracted me," she said and stuck out a small pink tongue at him. "And what are you supposed to be doing?" I asked Peter. He still had that winning smile on his face and turned those lovely eyes on me. "Getting the drinks and stuff," he said. "And did you?" "Of course, finished an hour ago," he said with a laugh. "You guys, you're being paid to work. Not neck on each other. Save it for college." "Sorry, Stacey," they mumbled and left the room, still pinching and touching. "Kids," I muttered and went to check their work. Besides a chair out of place from their romp, everything was in order. The tablet was hooked up and displaying our logo on the TV. The conference table had enough chairs for the other realtors and a secretary. The new boss would sit at the opposite end of the room from the presentation and hopefully get to know us and our company better. James had been very hands on from the start but as the years passed and new realtors came and went, he had slowly turned over the bulk of the business for me to handle. I came to Beachside straight out of college ten years ago and had loved every day of my job. It was empowering to find someone who willing to sell, fix up their place, and find a buyer. My skills in sales helped me get promoted ahead of my peers. If I wanted, I could have gone freelance long before. But it was the accounting and loan office that kept me here. I hated the financial aspect of real estate and it drove me up the wall waiting for loan applications to go through, or sometimes fail. I made pretty decent money, too. The work was stable, at least for me, and I liked working as part of the team. The only downside was that my love life had been non-existent since my senior year of college; aside from a few flings that I regretted sometimes before they happened. I bit my lip again when I thought about Peter, pressing Sabrina's young tight body against the wall. I tried to stop myself but couldn't resist as I passed the place where they had been kissing. A musky sharp male smell was in the air, masking another more delicate female aroma of arousal. I breathed in deep, luxuriating in the bouquet and closed my eyes. My hand slipped down to my blouse and I gasped when I felt my nipples, erect against the light cotton blouse I was wearing. My breasts weren't as big as Sabrina's, but they were still upright and firm. I opened my pale blue eyes and caught my breath when I looked down. A pair of waded up panties peeked from underneath a filing cabinet right by my feet. Bending quickly, I grabbed them. They were silky and black, the kind that showed no panty lines. Not only that, they were still warm from whoever had been wearing them last. Sabrina, I thought and brought them to my nose. What am I doing? I tried to stop but couldn't. I never would have imagined I would be sniffing another woman's panties that day, and when they reached my nose I drew the scent in. A floral odor greeted my nose, soft and inviting. I groaned aloud and my free hand found my left breast again. I squeezed gently and my thighs tightened involuntarily. "A-hem," a male voice said from the other side of the room. I stopped from screaming and turned, one hand hiding the panties behind my back, trying to find a pocket to put them in. "I can return when you're finished," he said. My face turned red at being caught. It turned even redder when I saw who was addressing me. The man before me was just that; a man. If Peter were to stand next to him it would be easy to tell who was more imposing, stronger, and better looking, and it wasn't the high school linebacker. The man was a little over six foot, slim but broad shouldered with a face to die for. A five o'clock shadow brought out every strong line on his jaw, and his black hair was cut short but stylish. From his looks he stayed out in the sun quite often but I saw no lines or blemishes. All of that, however, took second place to his eyes. They were the first thing I noticed and the last thing I would ever want to see. It was hard to tell what color they were, only that they were dark and framed by long eye lashes and neatly manicured eyebrows. They twinkled merrily at my predicament, neither judging nor encouraging, merely observing. "I- I'm sorry, who are you?" I said, still trying to recover. "Just a man. Rick Thornton, at your service," he said and held out his hand. I found myself moving across the room, unable to stop myself from shaking his hand. The other hand still help the panties, trapped behind my waist in the small of my back. "Stacey Willows. Are you looking to buy or sell?" I asked. "Buy. Bought, rather. I'm your new boss. Call me Rick," he said, still shaking my hand with a well calloused but soft grip. "Hi," I said, knees weak and shaking. "Why don't we have a seat," Rick said. He guided me over to a seat, the one Peter and Sabrina had been using earlier. I sat, and casually threw the panties under the table, careful not to let him see. I crossed my legs, trying to tighten my muscles and keep my arousal under control. Rick chuckled, as if sharing some secret at my expense. "Good to meet you, everyone seems friendly so far." He took a seat across from me, ignoring the plush one we had prepared for him. "Yes," I said, still trying to calm my emotions. My heart was in a grip, fluttering madly and making my eyes swim. "You must be the Stacey that James spoke about. I hear he has you to thanks for making Beachside Inc. a success," he said. His voice was gentle, soothing, and had only a slight drawl I couldn't place. "The whole team helped me along the way, but yes. James put a lot of trust in me and it paid off for both of us," I said, more than happy to talk about business. "Good to hear you take credit for your hard work. Listen, Stacey," he said. When I heard my name come from those thick soft lips I felt my heart hammer even faster and my lips parted in anticipation. "I don't want to step on your toes," he went on, ambivalent to my urges. "You have been making this office work for a few years now and really I just bought it as an investment. So I would like to make you the official president of operations, with a raise of course. Can you do that for me, Stacey Willows?" I gasped. Not at the news of hearing about my promotion, but the power he had when he said my full name. Rick leaned forward, pleased at my response. "I'll take that as a yes. Now I hear you have a presentation for me. I told the rest of the staff to keep on working, I don't want to mess up what you have going on. So why don't you put on your show for me and tell me about Beachside?" he said. Rick leaned back in his chair, fingers crossed behind his head and interlocking in a hammock for it to rest on. My head swam. The door to the room with its single small window in the center was shut and I suddenly realized I was alone. Part of it was thrilling, and another part made my head scream; wanting to run and hide from some sort of hidden danger. I squashed that last bit down. Who could hurt me with an entire office right outside? "That would be great," I said. My legs were still slightly shaking but I stood up with both hands on the table for support. I went to the wall and turned out the overhead light, leaving only the blue and white logo shining brightly on the screen. When the lights went out I sighed, relieving tension and arousal that was still building up and threatening to spill over. Once I was under control, I made my way back to the front of the room. Rick had a front row seat and his nearness made me shiver. A scent came off him and my body shuddered when it hit my nose. It was a strong scent, stronger than the one Peter had left, and more feral. More predatory. I knew I was acting like a deer caught in headlights and chided myself. Get with the program, you can do this. Picking up the tablet, I began. "Beachside Inc. is a start-up company in the heart of Downtown Chicago. Our mission is to provide real estate services to the North Shore communities of the Evanston, Wilmette, Highland Park, and the Lake Forest suburbs. We are a full service real estate, mortgage, and title company." I calmed down when I got through the brief introduction, years of practice paying off. Rick watched me, his eyes shining brightly in the dim light. Behind me a map showed the suburbs where we worked, most of it on the coast. "Its founder was James Cavanaugh, an entrepreneur in real estate for over thirty years. Our main clients are the young and wealthy, but we also have one full time realtor dedicated to family housing in Southside Chicago, a legacy from where James grew up." "We make any profit from it?" asked Rick. "We get a large tax break, and it helps keep the overhead down," I said. The project was James' idea and while not ideal, it broke even and gave us benefits we would not otherwise be entitled to. "Good, go on," he said. "Beachside Inc. offers real estate, mortgage, and title services to our client base." "Wait, could you turn around please?" Rick said. It was a strange request but I obeyed, unable to help myself. For a second time I felt that familiar flight or fight response well up from the bottom of my shoes, traveling up my spine and making my head tingle. "How's that," I said, giggling nervously as I turned. My God woman, get yourself under control. "Great. Perfect. Is that what you normally wear when meeting clients?" "Yes," I said. So it was a question about fashion. Innocent enough. "No wonder you're the top saleswoman. Professional and good looking. That's a hard quality to come by these days." My body flushed at the compliment. What he said was borderline inappropriate but I didn't care. I just wanted to please him. "Thanks," I said with a schoolgirl giggle and spun again, pausing ever so slightly when my back was turned. My spine arched forward, breasts pushed out; I knew he had a generous view of my ass. I was wearing a black skirt, as I did most days, and this one had a slit up the side that traveled only inches away from my panties. I turned back around and caught Rick leering at the exposed flesh. I caught my breath, trying to remain the professional that I was. Then it hit me. Wave after wave of pleasure, mixed with the scent of Rick, crashed into my endorphin filled mind. Back still arching, I fell against the wall, hands grasping for a hold on reality. The tablet crashed to the floor, forgotten as ecstasy stole my body, manipulating it with tender fingers down to my core. "Oops, got carried away. Forget what just happened and focus on the presentation, Stacey," Rick said. As soon as he said my name I came back. The events of the last minute vanished and I looked, puzzled, at the tablet that had fallen from my fingers. "Let me get that for you," said Rick. He stood up from his chair and bent down, his shoulders tugging tightly at the seams of his sports jacket as his broad muscles worked. He stood up and faced me, eyes telling me to go on. "I'll just stand for a bit, continue." "Thanks, I don't know what came over me," I said, accepting the tablet from his outstretched hand. I looked at the TV, bewildered but determined to continue. "Beachside offers real estate, mortgage, and title services to our client base. We list everything from new homes, condos, and apartments. Our full service staff is dedicated to the purchasing and selling of-" "Are you dedicated enough to do anything to sell?" asked Rick. "Of course, why just last week I had-" "I mean, willing to do anything," Rick interrupted again, stepping closer. I paused. That's a loaded question. "Yes," I said slowly. "Then prove it. Let's say I'm a new client. I'm looking for a home in Northwood, something close to the water. I'm young, single, and have a bank full of cash. Go." Anything, the thought stole across my mind. That familiar scent drifted up my nose, threatening to make me curl up in a ball. Rick was in front of me, close enough to grab. It took my entire force of will not to reach out. "Hello Mr. Thornton. Thank you for choosing Beachside as your real estate provider. Would you like to take a seat?" I said. "Sure," said Rick. He was grinning, and the infectious action made me giggle again. "Please, right over here," I said. I took him by the arm and led him back to the table. My breast grazed his elbow, shooting tendrils of energy up my chest. Another sigh escaped. Regretfully, I let go and took a seat next to him rather than across the table. It was a tactic I had used before to great advantage with some of the younger professional men I had serviced. I scooted back, making him turn to face me. Nothing separated us but the tablet I held in my hands. "So, I hear you're looking for something close to the water. House or condo?" I asked. " House, please. Something out of the way of traffic, I like my privacy." "Privacy? That's not a problem," I said. I leaned forward. One hand fanned my face, desperate to get rid of the warmth still lingering there. The other smoothed my skirt. "Is it hot in here or just me?" I said and laughed. "It is a bit warm. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable," Rick said. He said it as a request but it came out as a demand, tearing at my good judgment. "Thanks," I said. My hand stopped fanning my face and I reached down, letting a button go at the top of my blouse. A breeze of cool wind brushed against my skin, making my chest rise in relief. When I stole a glance down, my cleavage was obvious, a red flush creeping down from my neck. "Better?" asked Rick. "Much. Are you hot?" I asked. "A little," he said and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. His dark skin continued from his face and I swear I could see rippling muscles on his chest from the small action. Rick leaned forward, eyes penetrating. "Privacy," I said. "We have several houses in the million dollar range, each with a private drive and wooded lots." "Go on," Rick said. His eyes were fixed on my chest and I arched my back in a fake stretch. "Yes," I said. My free hand came up, tugging at my bra strap. I purposely bunched up the shirt at the collar and brought the slack down, exposing more of the valley between my breasts as another button came undone. "Oops," I said but didn't try to fix it. "There are several, shall I go through each one?" What the hell is getting into me? The top of my smooth black bra was nearly visible, a trickle of sweat dripping slowly from my neck and towards the crevice below. My legs uncrossed, a jolt of passion forcing them apart. "Go into it, yea," said Rick. He's looking up my skirt. The thought of someone like Rick watching me gave me a thrill. My legs went further apart, my tight skirt trapping them from going any further after a few inches. I whimpered. This is getting out of hand. But I couldn't stop. I leaned back in my chair, causing my skirt to bunch up at the hips and my chin to come down, further increasing the visibility of my quickly engorging breasts. My nipples tore at their captivity, wanting to be free from their cage. "The first one offers a boat dock, three car garage, and a small indoor swimming pool," I said. I was surprised I could continue to speak. Every sense was aimed at Rick, every movement he made I saw, and everywhere he looked left a burning trail of desire. "How many bedrooms?" he asked. His hands were clasped together and he placed his elbows on his knees. His breath rushed over me, minty and fresh but warm enough to make me sweat even more. "Three," I gasped. I reached over and placed the tablet on the table. My hands gripped the sides of my chair and I sunk even lower. Rick gave a pleased grunt, either at the number of bedrooms or the fact that the bottom of my panties were now showing. "Not big enough. I need the privacy but I have... house guests over all the time," he said and laughed. I laughed too, unsure of the byplay. "Well in that case how about a five bedroom colonial, same features but closer to town?" I brought a shaking hand to my chest, brushing at the top of my breasts. I couldn't stop, even if I wanted to. Something was taking control of me. Rick grinned and looked me straight in the eye. "Tell me more," he said. My hand slipped lower. Slowly, and without looking away from those seductive eyes, I undid a third button. There was no denying it; my bra peeked out, the black cups desperately trying to keep my pale, heaving breasts inside. "More?" I asked. "Tell me everything," he said. The Stanger "Where to begin?" I said. The other hand left the armrest and I placed it on top of my lap. My fingers played over the hem of my skirt, not quite grasping but lifting it further still. The other went down to the fourth button and stopped. This is it, anything to sell. I tore my gaze away from Rick, desperate to get a hold of myself. I failed miserably. I gasped again when I looked past his head. At the window in the door two heads looked back at me. Peter and Sabrina. Sabrina's face was flushed and Peter was behind her. They both could see the show I was putting on and it was obvious Peter had one hand down the front of Sabrina's shirt. Risk saw where I was looking and turned around. Peter and Sabrina saw him and before they could duck down he spoke. "You two. Lock the hallway door and get back to the window. You," he said and turned back to me. "Yes, Master," I said. I don't know why I called him that, it just came out. My vision went white and seconds later I had forgotten what I had seen. "The house, please," said Rick. He was facing me, hands folded and waiting patiently. "The house, yes," I said. One hand bunched up the fabric of my skirt, the other gently undid the fourth button. I was exposed now, the red flush of my skin extending from my face to the top of my stomach. "It's very big," I said and laughed nervously. "How big is it, miss?" he said. One hand came up to his chin and the other offered me a handkerchief. "You look hot, use this." "Thanks," I said and took it. As soon as I touched it, I knew what it was. Sabrina's panties. I flushed even deeper and started to rise. "It's fine, just use it," said Rick. I lost my inhibitions. I brought the silky cloth to my face and damped away the sweat, following the small trail of sweat down my chest and stopped at the top of my bra. Anything, the voice came again. I lifted the cup off my breast and used the other hand to wipe myself down, doing a thorough job and stopping for a moment to caress my nipples. They stuck out, erect and demanding attention. I tweaked one and groaned; all sense of professionalism and salesmanship gone. "Do you need a moment to breath?" asked Rick. "No, l-lets continue," I stuttered. Anything. My hands continued down my chest, stopping at the last two buttons holding my blouse together. Why not. One hand still clenched the panties and the other grasped the button. My eyes locked with Rick, eager to please him, eager to do anything to make him happy. The next button came undone, my belly was fully exposed. Still I continued on to the last one. I started fighting against the currents pulling against my mind. Anything. I was overwhelmed. The last button came undone, my firm white stomach open to the cravings of Rick's eyes. I moaned, the sweat soaked panties coming up to my mouth. I stuffed them inside, delighted as the heady scent of woman filled my nostrils and dripped down my throat. My hands, free to explore, went to my breasts. I flicked my nipples underneath the sheer fabric of my bra, making them become even more erect. Rick licked his lips, a gesture lost on me as I closed my eyes and groaned. If I had them open, I would have run screaming out of the room. His tongue was long, forked, and his eyes flickered yellow. The tongue drank up the scent in the air, capturing the essence of my lust. I drifted further down in the chair, one hand going under the bra and the other between my legs. A quick flick up and my left breast was exposed. The small pink nipple shrunk up in the cool air, my fingers brushing it and pinching it with delicate force. I moaned, solid and long. My other hand, between my legs, rubbed the outside of my panties. They were soaked, the effect of a previous now forgotten climax. I slipped a finger underneath. I kept shaved, even though I had no love interest for far too long. The wetness made me slippery and I moaned again as a finger brushed my clit. I kept a few vibrators at home, but even those were nothing compared to the rapture I was feeling now. A second finger joined the first, both circling my zone, creating a roller coaster effect that was building. Anything. I gasped at the voice; it stole away my identity, my freedom of thought, and my dignity. But I didn't care. I continued to rub myself. I flicked up the other side of my bra and brought both hands down to my dripping pussy. I pushed the panties aside, everything forgotten as I focused on the feelings. One finger went inside, the other hand continued to rub my clit. I was building fast, ready to explode. I was lost in my own bliss, forgetting Rick and anyone watching outside the window. As I reached my climax, Rick jumped to his feet, racing to my side. I foolishly ignored him as I came, hard. My screams surely had to be noticed in the office, but no one cared. Rick was beside me, tongue flicking and drinking in my pleasure. His eyes were yellow and dead, but when he captured my desire they turned black, black as the night, black as Satan's own darkness. I slumped in the chair, spent and exhausted as I had never been before. Rick stood above me. "Clean up, put on your clothes, and forget this ever happened," he said. "Yes, Master," I croaked. Rick turned to the door, Peter and Sabrina watching with glazed over eyes. He chuckled. "I'm going to love working here." He laughed, loud and crude as he went out the door. The Stanger "King and the Boys are playing tonight. We have our Friday rib special and gin and tonics are half off. Can I get you something to start out?" Jayden asked, not waiting for our waitress to come over. "Beer for me, whatever local you have on tap," said Tanner. "I'll take the gin and tonic," I said. "It'll be right out. Ya'll have a nice evening," he said and slid back the curtain. We were cut off from the rest of the dining area in our own little world. "Hello," Tanner said from the other side of the table. "Hey," I said. "You come here often?" he asked. I laughed at the stupid pick-up line. "About once a week with my co-workers. I'm afraid my career gets in the way of having too much fun by myself." "Same here," he said. "Really? You in real estate?" I asked, curious. In truth I had no idea what he did. I expected to hear him say a cowboy or lumberjack. "Rancher. Or used to be. The family still works there but I've just been traveling the last few years. Thinking about going back next year." "Family?" I asked. I didn't see a ring on his finger, but my heart fell when I thought he could be married. "Parents and two brothers. Don't worry, I don't have a wife anymore," he said, reading my mind. "I see, divorced?" "Widowed," he said, matter of fact. I winced. The arrival of our drinks broke up the awkward silence. I took a drink, a long pull to steady my nerves and prolong my response. "Sorry to hear that," I said, immediately regretting and wishing I had thought of something more intelligent to say. "It's been eight years this September. No worries. You married?" he asked, obviously not offended. I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding. "No, not even a real boyfriend for close to ten. Once I graduated I took the first job offered and stuck with it. My parents were helpful and pushed me to thrive. I guess they wanted me to succeed where they failed." "Fair enough. Never went to college except for a couple years at a technical school. Learned a bit about agriculture and animal husbandry but I knew most of that from the time I was ten." Animal husbandry?" I asked, curious. "Breeding, genetics, that sort of thing. Helps keep the inbreeding down and weed out the weak stock." "Sounds interesting," I said, genuinely curios about something I had never even thought about. "Nah, not as much as living in Chicago making big sales," he said and grinned. His perfect white teeth made me quiver. I was saved by the arrival of our waitress. "Hey, Stacey. What'll you be having tonight," she asked. It was Jayden's sister, Melanie. She was just as tall as Tanner but where her brother was rough cut with sharp features, hers were more toned down and soft. Her kinky black hair was pulled back in neat braids, tied with a white ribbon. "Hi Mel. Ribs for me, half rack," I said. Tanner raised his eyes, appreciating my courage I hoped. "Same for me but make it a full rack." Melanie left and Tanner raised his eyes again. "What, I like my meat," I said and raised my shoulders. Tanner laughed; a jolly sound that made my heart lift. "I like it. Most girls order a side salad and not a thing else. Then they try to eat my meal when it comes out." "Better not lay a finger on mine, or I'll bite it off," I said and snapped my teeth together twice. "Easy now," Tanner said and held up his hands in defeat. "Message received. Why did you get into real estate anyways?" he asked, changing the subject. "I did an internship with another real estate agency my senior year and liked it. Beachfront was still small back then but expanding. When my old boss wrote my recommendation they picked me right up. I've been there ever since." "He still there?" he asked nonchalantly. My head swan, the question confusing. I blinked, unsure what to say. "Yes," I managed to get out, my mind blank. "What's his name?" "James Cavanaugh." "When did he open the office?" "Thirty-two years ago," I said. My mind was still confused, but I came out of it when Tanner frowned, obviously not pleased with my answers. "Guess it's been around a while then. Don't suppose you keep up with most of the other real estate offices, do you?" he asked. "Oh, not too much. We have a pretty exclusive market and we tend to keep out of each other's noses. Were you looking for work around here?" I asked. "No, just trying to see where to go to get a reasonable deal on a condo," he said and laughed. I joined him. "Chicago's expensive, if you want to live in a safe area. I might be able to give you a list of other realtors if you're really looking for a place. I have a high school friend in Lombard that might be able to give you a hand." "That would be great," he said, smile growing even wider. I looked at his face. "You shaved!" I said, more of a shout than a statement. "Glad you noticed. I'm wearing better clothes than the last time you saw me too," he said and held out his arms for inspection. "You clean up nice, Mr. Browning," I said, and meant it. For the first time I really looked at him, saw him for who he was. For one, he was out of his element in Chicago. He might fit in out west, down south, or even some parts of the coasts, but he wasn't city-wise, that was for damned sure. "Why thank you, Miss... Stacey?" "Willows, Stacey Willows," I gave him my family name. "Miss Willows. You're not so bad looking yourself. How do you stay in shape? Working in an office must be a drag, sitting down all day and what not." "I'm lucky to sit down. Most of the time I'm out at showings or driving across town to meet a potential client. You'd be surprised how much foot work we actually do, despite the internet." "Didn't really think about that," he said. I was thrilled. He noticed my body. "How about you, do you wake up every morning and chop a load of firewood before eating your bacon and eggs?" I teased. "A cord of wood. And no. I just watch what I eat and walk when I can. Most of what you see is just genetics," he held up an arm for inspection. I leaned forward, hand coming up to touch it. "Here you are, Stacey, Stacey's friend. A full rack and a half rack with steak fries and coleslaw. You want the celery tonight?" "No, that'll be good for now," I said sitting back down and hiding my hand. "And for you?" Stacey asked Tanner. "Another beer for me and a gin and tonic for the lady," he said and held up his empty mug. "On the way," Melanie said and shut the curtain. "Wow, this looks good, smells good too," said Tanner, sniffing his plate. He tucked a napkin in his shirt and another on his lap. "I've always had trouble getting a napkin to stay up," I said. Usually I just made sure not to dribble. That and wearing a red shirt hid any wayward barbeque sauce that did get past my defenses. "Let me help," Tanner said and scooted around the table. I hid a moan, his smell overpowering the smoking hot ribs. His hands came up, his massive work hardened hands. They were gentle for all their power, and he took my napkin from my own insubstantial hands. My paleness was evident next to his sun weathered complexion and I marveled at how different we were. Yet, I felt my heart reach out to him, struggling to make the connection I knew was there. Tanner's hands reached behind me and I tilted my head forward, luxuriating in the nearness, hoping I could last in the moment forever. He sat back, job complete. "What do you think?" he asked me. I looked down. Rather than tuck the napkin in my shirt, he had tied it behind my neck. I felt like an idiot for not thinking of it before. "Guess I never thought of that," I said. "You just needed a new set of eyes," he said, not moving from my side. I reached a hand down, testing the limits of my feelings. I grabbed his hand and squeezed, not letting go for anything. Melanie drew back the curtain, tray in her hand. She smiled when she saw us sitting together. For the past seven years she had teased me about not having a man in my life. Now she had to eat her words when she saw what I was doing. "I brought your drinks, and two more besides. Thought you folks might want a little privacy tonight," she said and set down two massive beers in icy glasses and two gin and tonics big enough to drown an Irishman. Good girl, I thought. "Thank you, Mel. We'll be sure to get you if we need anything. Get lost. "You know where to find me honey," she said and gave me a knowing smile. She closed the curtain and left us. Outside I could hear the band starting up. They never played noisy music here, only melodies loud enough to cover back ground noises but low enough to hear those at your table. "This looks good," said Tanner. He squeezed my hand and let it go. I was disappointed but when I heard his stomach rumble over the sound of the band couldn't stop my laugh. "You are hungry," I said. "Yep, and thirsty," he said and grabbed the new mug. He washed down a hunk of meat and licked his fingers, not worrying about the social customs of eating in front of a lady. I joined him, delighting in the music, booze, and food. The company didn't hurt much either. "Tanner," I said after a while. "Stacey?" he replied. "Who are you?" He chuckled. "Tanner Browning, born and raised in the great outdoors of northern Washington. At your service." "No, I mean who are you?" I said, emphasizing my question. Tanner frowned, unsure what to say. "I guess you could call me a drifter, a tramp, a nobody. Why you ask?" Anything. The voice came out of the air. I was mesmerized, trapped in my own body and couldn't control what I did or said. "Just wanted to know," I said. Outside the band was starting a slow number. It was Friday but it felt like a stormy Monday in my heart. I battled with the strange feelings coming over me. Battled, and lost. My hand drifted to my neck, untying the napkin Tanner had so tenderly done up for me. It fell on my lap, forgotten. "Finished already?" Tanner said. He was half done with his rack and starting on the other half. "No, just feel like living dangerously," I said. I picked up a rib, careful to choose one slathered in barbeque. I brought it to my lips hoping I would please my Master. I would do as he ordered. "Oops," I said, my lips pouting out. The glob of barbeque had fallen off the bone, dripping in a large glob on my neck, trailing down towards my breasts. "Here," said Tanner, giving me the napkin from around his collar. "Oh, no. Be a man and use your finger," I laughed. I was nervous before, and given to giggles. Now my laugh was strong and pure, helped along by my Master. Tanner laughed with me, oblivious to the trap I was laying against my will. "Fine, be that way," he said. He leaned forward and deftly swiped up the offending mess with a strong finger before I could stop him. He brought it to his lips, winked, and licked it clean. "Hey, you missed a spot big boy," I said and held open my collar even further. He had missed a small dab, no bigger than a pea. He reached in again but before he could pull away I grabbed him, pulling his hand in with a strength I didn't even know I had. Tanner paused, unsure of what I was trying to do. I showed him by taking that big finger off my chest and into my mouth, sucking the sauce off. I locked eyes with him and continued to suck long after the flavor was gone. My lips locked on, unwilling to let go, unwilling to surrender the tender morsel. Tanner grunted, a low sound that started deep in his stomach and ended in his throat. I could feel it, vibrating across the table and into my stomach. I clenched my legs. "How much gin they put in those things anyways," he said, trying to joke. I let go of his finger, licking it gently before letting him have his hand back. "Sorry about that, I- I don't know what came over me," I said and fanned my face. "Don't worry about it. Can't say that I'm sorry," he said. His eyes were still on me, hungry and willing. "Is it hot in here?" I asked. I slipped a hand down to where Tanner had wiped away the sauce. It found the button I was looking for and popped it. His eyes drifted, seeking the soft flesh of my breast only a couple feet away. "It is getting a little warm," he said. He put an arm around me. My head screamed, synapses firing in every direction at the touch, the familiar words. I leaned in closer, eager to feel his heat. "And getting warmer," he said, loosening his own collar. I leaned my head against his chest, daring him to make the next move. Looking down, I could see the outline of his cock, creating a bulge in the front of his pants. Oh, Tanner. He moved, his left arm circling tighter around my neck, holding me closer. His hand drifted lower, hovering inches from my pounding heart. I arched my chest forward and raised my head to look at his eyes. His hand touched me, and I moaned. Anything. Hesitating no longer, I lifted my chin searching for the lips coming to greet me. We clashed, a symphony of joy playing along with the band. I sought out his tongue eagerly, sucking it in when it hit my teeth. My love, my life, the thought came unbidden from the back of my mind, threatening to pull away the power that was forcing me to seduce him. But is it force? The mask I was wearing slipped ever so slightly and I pulled away. "Wow, sorry about that," I said. "I'm not, said Tanner, obviously still longing for me. Anything. That voice broke me again. "Neither am I, Tanner Browning," I said. His name had power, a force of nature unwilling to be tamed. "Good," he said. I looked down. His erection was painfully obvious now, struggling to free itself. I leaned forward again, eager to bask in his presence. "Good," I somehow spoke back. My hand rested on his leg, inches away from his throbbing cock. Tanner groaned this time, more hungry and ready than before. Outside the band was finishing up the last tune and starting on a slow and steady number. I rubbed closer towards my goal. A snarl escaped his lips; an animal sound lost in the music, drifting over so only my ears could hear it. I took that as permission to go further. My fingers stretched, scratching the fabric of his jeans. He squeezed me, tighter and tighter, crushing my head into that broad chest. We lifted our heads in unison, eagerly seeking each other out, daring ourselves to continue. Our lips met again. Hot and deep his breath filled me, his smooth face brushed against my cheek. I nibbled on his tongue, tempting him further in. It filled me, entered me without hesitation. It was my turn to moan, the guttural sound leaving my mouth and causing his entire face to vibrate. My right hand grasped, not pretending to tease any longer. His cock was massive, my hand dwarfed by its size. The other hand was still on my chest, I brought it down further, undoing two more buttons. Tanner's hand was on my face now. I left my buttons be, grabbing his hands and bringing it in close. I had debated wearing a bra that evening and social convention had won out. It was white and silky though, and every inch of exposed curvy flesh was visible, aching for pressure. His hand went further, and stopped. "You sure you're all right?" he asked. Our eyes opened, staring into each other with an ache we both needed to fill. The perfect gentleman, I thought. My mind cleared, ashamed at what I was doing. ANYTHING! My Master's voice triumphed. I had no power over it, no way to defend. I looked back at Tanner. "It's fine. I need you, Tanner. Need you like I have never needed anyone before." "That's all I need to hear," he said. He brought his face back in, seeking out the kiss he had broken moments ago. I grabbed him again, his pants bulging in anticipation. My own clothes suddenly felt too hot, too restrictive. I brought his hand back to my breasts, the upper part bared to the dark room, the candle light casting the shadows of his features on my body. My legs spread, the faint scent of my arousal wafting up, teasing him and making me even more ready. My hand left his cock, drifting down to my waist. This skirt was shorter than the ones I usually wore, and it made it easier to reach where I was going. Despite having to wear a bra, I had decided against panties. Typically I would wear them, but the last few days had been a whirlwind of rising emotions for me, my excitement threatening to spill over every time I even moved. Panties just made it worse with their pressure and rubbing, so today I was free from the encumbrance. My hand went lower, seeking out the source of my moisture. I found it, the wetness smooth and gentle on my fingers. I gasped again, an audible sound that made Tanner break away. He saw where my hand was, what I was doing. "Want to get out of here?" he asked me. I wanted to take him then and there, but I remembered my orders. "I'll tell Mel to put the check on my tab," I gasped. Carefully, and with a great deal of regret, I buttoned my shirt, playfully slapping Tanner's hands away when he tried to help. His own predicament was more difficult to hide. His cock was still rising, if that was possible. He reached down and flipped it up against his waist band, a difficult maneuver to do when seated. "Are we decent?" he asked. "No, but let's get out of here anyways," I said, making sure to laugh and reach up again for a quick kiss. I opened the curtain to a full room. The band was still playing their soft gentle tunes and lovers all around were deep in their own conversation. "Leaving already, Stacey?" Melanie asked. "Yes, it was delicious as usual. Put it on the tab, will you?" I asked her. "You bet, have a great evening you two," she said and patted Tanner on the cheek. He winked at her. "Oh, I'm sure we will," he said. We went outside. The warm summer sun was just setting, casting shadows on the tall buildings all around. We started to walk, hand in hand. "Where to, Miss Willows?" he asked me. "My office. If you don't mind. I need to pick something up. Then back to my place?" I asked. "Lead the way," he said, his hand leaving me and his arm coming around to hold me close. I sighed, deep and full of my craving. Beachside was only a few blocks away. Rather than pay for a cab, we walked. My low heels clicked in the sidewalk, his sturdy brown leather boots thumped merrily and lightly, eager to get where we were going. His hand slipped lower and lightly spanked my ass when we turned the next corner. The shock and thrill made me squeak and laugh, I returned the favor. "Hey, that's quite a swing you have," he said and rubbed his butt. "Aw, come on. It was a baby blow," I said and stuck out my tongue. He came closer and kissed my outstretched tongue, drawing it in to his mouth with a gentle motion. We stopped, clinging on the each other, not wanting to move. "Woo-hoo!" a shout came from the road. A couple of teens traveling by in a convertible waved and gave us thumbs up. Tanner waved back, not breaking the kiss, if anything making it deeper. "Let's get a move on," I said and broke away, unwilling and desperate to continue. "We there yet?" Tanner asked. "Just up ahead. I'll get my keys," I said, fishing in my purse for the key ring. I found it and took it out just as we approached the front door. Everyone should have been gone for the day, but it was a large building and several other offices were on different floors. I didn't need it as a group exited just ahead of us. "Working late tonight, Stacey?" Dan asked. He was an architect on the fourth floor and we passed each other regularly every day. "Just getting some files," I said.